Harry Potter and the Lord of Immortality
by Awakening5
Summary: The war is beginning, and Voldemort seeks to cast fear into the hearts of the wizarding world as reality hits: he is immortal. Harry Potter struggles to accept his new role in the war and find a way to destroy the man who can't die. AU 6th year. Canon ships, especially HG.
1. Prologue

**A/N: I have been plotting and writing this story for months. I wanted to get a healthy head start so that even if I hit a block, I could keep posting and hope that reviewers could give me the inspiration to continue. With over 2/3 the story, and 100k words already written, I think I can start posting. **

**I feel very proud of what I've written so far, but small characterization moments are subject to change based on reader reactions. I've long loved J.K.'s Dumbledore, but I've also loved the independent Harry stories that are out there. The common plot device is changing Dumbledore into a manipulative bastard—which is fine for what it is. But I wanted to craft a story where a truly ****_good_**** Dumbledore can co-exist with an independent and strong Harry Potter. Combine that element with a divergence from Horcruxes and a fun Harry Ginny romance, and I had a book-length fic on my hands. I've loved writing it, and hope you enjoy it, too!**

**A big thanks to ginnyvampire for the encouragement to post right away. Without further ado…**

Harry Potter and the Lord of Immortality

Prologue

* * *

Lucius anxiously turned the knob on the large mahogany door. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

The sight before him was disturbing and terrifying. Shuddering at the cold in the room, Lucius pressed forward, nearing his Master before him. Lying on a table before Lord Voldemort was a Dementor, its hood pulled back, revealing a ghastly skeletal head with a large oval opening where the mouth should have been. The Dementor was tied to the table; silver, shimmering bands wrapped around the monster's wrists, ankles and neck kept the beast from escaping. Then the Dementor shrieked.

If Lucius combined all of the worst sounds he had ever heard—including but not limited to a baby mandrake's scream, a mermaid shouting out of water, his ex-girlfriend's laugh—it wouldn't even compare to the horror of that sound. His body froze and shivers raced though his body. His mind became cloudy as he sought some form of refuge from the incessant noise and he lowered his head, covering his ears with his hands. He pressed so hard into his head that he thought he might pass out from the pressure on his brain, which thought didn't sound nearly as bad as the Dementor.

Mercifully, the shriek ended before Lucius passed out, and he removed his hands from his ears. The beautiful silence was replaced by another unpleasant, albeit considerably less so, sound. Voldemort's high-pitched voice pierced the air in the dark room. "Rather repulsive, aren't they? But they do serve their purpose. Just like you, Lucius."

The Dark Lord turned to Lucius Malfoy, and Lucius dropped his gaze. "You have proven yourself to be a very loyal and obedient follower, Lucius. I've been considering bringing you into my inner circle."

Lucius' heart beat more quickly in his chest. Excitement rushed though his veins. He nodded his head exuberantly and looked into Voldemort's eyes. "Yes, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord."

"I've asked you here to do something very simple. And through accomplishing this simple act you will guarantee yourself a seat at my table." Voldemort raised his eyebrows at Lucius who resumed his emphatic nodding.

"Anything, my Lord."

"Good," Voldemort responded, pulling out his wand. "_Imperio!_"

A sweeping emptiness hit Lucius. It was peaceful, even happy. He vaguely heard the Dementor scream again, but this time he didn't care so much. It no longer seemed to bother him. When the Dementor finished screaming, he heard his master speak again.

"Just a bit of extra security, Lucius. I'm sure you understand." Lucius nodded his head—he didn't understand, or care really. But he felt a nod was what his master wanted, so he would oblige.

"You see, Dementors take your soul—they feed off of it. Consume it whole. What would I be without a soul? An empty shell. No motivation to live, to purge this world of its foulness. I would be immortal, of course—when the Dementor takes the soul, it doesn't kill you—at least until the soul is digested. And with no soul to lose, I would never die.

"This immortality is not the kind I want, of course. I want to live forever to accomplish my cleanse, to rule a world finally pure. So I made a few adjustments on my subject here," Voldemort said, turning away from Lucius back to the table with the captive Dementor. Lucius felt that his Master would want him to turn to the table as well, so he mimicked him.

"This Dementor will merely remove my soul for safe-keeping with no ability to consume it," he continued, reaching forth and grabbing the grotesque creature's pale, gray hand, and gazing longingly at the creature. "It will still be mine, of course, and it will still guide my every desire and action. But it will not depart in the unlikely event I am bested in a duel or a traitor sneaks up in my sleep. Instead, it will stay right here in this Dementor, unharmed and untarnished."

Voldemort turned to Lucius, a smile on his handsome face. Somehow, the smile made him hideous—it was manic and did not belong. "There will be a toll on my body, of course, and I will fall forever if not awakened. That is where you come in. After the process is complete, I will need you to perform the awakening charm on me. Is this understood?"

Lucius understood completely. "Yes, my Lord."

Voldemort smiled hideously again before looking excitedly at the Dementor. "Then we shall begin."

Voldemort moved closer to the table and made a swishing movement with his wand. The Dementor cried out once more, but Voldemort paid it no mind. Instead, he took a breath, and leaned forward, nearing the creature's face. His lips neared the hole in the Dementor's skull where a mouth should have been. A deep suctioning sound replaced the Dementor's shriek as it realized a soul was coming to him willingly.

Voldemort began to cry out in pain as an ethereal smoke-like substance emerged from his mouth. The color in Voldemort's face drained slowly as his cries ran through the chamber. As if sucking more than just his soul from his body, Voldemort's face began changing form. His face seemed to elongate, its structure become more boney. His nose flattened out across his face, so slits for nostrils remained the only evidence that he could smell.

Finally, the process completed, Voldemort's cries ceased, and he fell to the ground in a heap of motionless and mangled flesh.

Lucius stepped forward obediently and raised his wand. "_Expergo!" _

Voldemort's eyes shot open, revealing snake-like pupils. He pulled himself slowly to his feet, examining his bony hands. Once on his feet, he retrieved his wand and summoned a mirror, with which he looked at himself. His face was unreadable initially as he examined his new look. Then that same hideous smile slowly formed on his face—only this time it didn't seem out of place.

A high-pitched laughter rang throughout the chamber and even through the pleasant fog of the Imperius curse, Lucius knew it to be a more terrible noise than the shriek of the Dementor.

"Lucius," Voldemort said, turning his attention on his servant. "You have done well! For that you shall join my inner circle. Of course, you can have no memory of this event. I'm sure you understand."

Lucius felt himself nodding again, even though he didn't understand what that meant. But the next words to leave Voldemort's mouth explained it perfectly—though Lucius wouldn't remember them being spoken for over twenty years.

"_Obliviate_!"

0-0-0

Lucius Malfoy shot out of his bed. In a cell in Azkaban, he sat panting, sweating as the dream-memory flooded his thoughts. He dropped out of his bed to his knees and vomited. The air around him was cold and cruel. Perhaps it was being surrounded by the Dementors for a couple of weeks. Or maybe it was his close proximity to the event itself. Whatever the case, Lucius slowly found his voice and whispered to himself, "I remember…"


	2. Reunions

**A/N: I figured I'd post more than just a prologue to start off the story. You'll notice a little inspiration from Ender's Game in the beginning of each chapter.**

**Also, I'm fifteen chapters ahead of posting in my writing, and it's funny how much longer my chapters have gotten throughout the story…**

Harry Potter and the Lord of Immortality

Chapter One: Reunions

* * *

"Just give me some answers! If this is what death is like, I want no part of it, James!"

"Well, you may be the first person ever granted that wish."

"What do you mean?"

"Tom Riddle was due here nearly fifteen years ago. He evaded the dead, broke our rules. Now we need to ensure he gets what's his."

"So…I'm going back? To kill him?"

"You're going back—if you want, that is. But you won't be doing the killing."

"Harry?"

"Yes…Harry."

-0-0-0-

Harry Potter lay on his back on the hard, wood floor of his room. Privet Drive. What a miserable place. The misery was compounded, of course, by the incessant thoughts of Sirius falling through the veil. By the prophecy's words echoing in his mind. By his foolishness and guilt.

Harry held a tennis ball in his hand and lobbed it into the air, tracking it absentmindedly through the air, and catching it again. He repeated this action hundreds of times each night as he tried to calm his thoughts enough to sleep.

The pain and confusion of having Voldemort in his mind was gone—it hadn't reared its ugly head since that fateful day in the Department of Mysteries. However, now that his mind was cleared of the _Dark Lord_, it could be more easily filled with feelings of how stupid Harry had been over the last year. Whether Harry was beating himself up about the shortness with which he treated his best friends or how he forgot about the two way mirrors, he couldn't move past his own idiocy.

For three weeks, he had repeated this nightly ritual of meditative chastisement. And it actually helped. It was remarkable what over one hundred hours of dwelling on one subject could accomplish. And now that his head never ached with the pain of Voldemort, his thoughts were much less crowded and befuddled. Three conclusions were drawn in his time throwing the ball up and down.

First, he needed to change his attitude. And fast. Sure, Harry had more difficulties than your average teenage wizard. Hell, more than your average grown wizard. Fine, more than _any_ wizard. So, he could grant himself some leniency when it came to his attitude problems of the past. And he would be forgiving of himself going forward. But he wanted to kick himself every time he thought of the countless fights he had had with Ron and Hermione or that time he had been inconsiderate of Ginny's time being possessed by Voldemort. He felt sick about his attitude. Beyond that, he realized over the past three weeks that no amount of sulking or guilt over Sirius' death or self pity over the prophecy would get him any closer to a happy and danger-free life. His attitude needed to change.

Second, he needed to prepare himself. This was easier said than done. Harry couldn't exactly practice magic outside of school. And while he wasn't the most studious in the past, Harry wasn't a slacker either. So he didn't know how much more a little extra studying could help him. But he would do everything in his power to get ready for his next, inevitable, encounter with Voldemort. He didn't know when that encounter would come though, and this brought him to the final epiphany of his nightly reflections.

He needed to demand truth from those around him. Sitting upstairs while the grownups discussed the war was no longer an option. Inwardly wondering why Dumbledore avoided his gaze was a thing of the past. Young or not, Harry was at the forefront of this battle and he would no longer stand there ignorantly. As touching as Dumbledore's notion of wanting to keep him safe and innocent had been, it was naïve and had contributed to his godfather's death. No longer would Harry's stupid actions be avoidable with a little more information from Dumbledore. If Harry made a mistake in the future, he didn't want anyone else to blame for it. All that did was make him angry.

This train of thought made Harry glance to his right where a letter lie on the ground, opened and read several times.

_Harry –_

_While I know how much it must pain you to leave the Dursley's so soon, I am afraid I must ask you to depart. The Weasley family has kindly offered their home for you to stay in. I will come to pick you up tomorrow night at ten o'clock. _

_Yours,  
Albus Dumbledore_

Harry had laughed at the first line, and hoped that Dumbledore was, indeed, being sarcastic. Harry couldn't believe that the old man was so blind to his despair at the Dursley's. However, Harry figured it was a joke because of the proposition that followed. It would be wonderful to spend nearly the entire summer with the Weasleys.

Harry was a little anxious as to what his reaction to seeing Dumbledore would be. He still couldn't make up his mind on how he felt about the man. If he had just trusted Harry with some more information, a lot of hurt and confusion could have been avoided the previous year. After all Harry had been through, he thought Dumbledore would trust him more.

Then again, Harry often reasoned with himself, perhaps it was never an issue of trust. It may have been just as the Headmaster suggested. He had begun to care for Harry, and this love got in the way of his reason. He didn't want to thrust Harry into the war just yet, even if he was destined to be there.

In either case, Dumbledore had been wrong. But Harry had to admit that his intentions made a world of difference with how he felt about the man. _After all,_ Harry thought to himself,_ how often have I made a mistake while having good intentions?_

Sirius came immediately to his mind, and he knew he would have to forgive Dumbledore if he didn't want to be a hypocrite. It wouldn't be easy, and Dumbledore would have to _earn_ his trust again. But Harry was willing to give it.

Harry glanced at the clock and saw that it was well past three in the morning. His mind finally felt relaxed enough to sleep, so he climbed up off the ground, set the tennis ball on his night stand and lay in bed.

That night his dreams were filled with Sirius taunting Bellatrix Lestrange, getting hit with a curse, and falling into the veil. His face a picture of shock and regret as he flew backwards. This was no strange occurrence for him. But then, a new development in the dream shocked Harry awake.

The sun was out, the time showed it to be early morning. Harry breathed heavily and tried to remind himself, _he's gone. He is gone! Even if you did just see him climb out of the veil…_

-0-0-0-

Albus Dumbledore was getting old. Magic was a beautiful thing that could be manipulated to slow or decrease the consequences of time. But unless one wanted to venture into the Dart Arts, old age was inevitable. Yes, age had slowed Albus down, but he was finding emotional baggage to be the true weight on his shoulders at the moment.

He apparated to Privet Drive and began walking down the street. He kept his wand out, never too careful. He may not be as paranoid as Alastor, but he wasn't foolish, either. But again, his true fears were not in an ambush, but in what awaited him at Number 4.

Albus Dumbledore was not accustomed to making mistakes. When he did make them, they were generally acceptable and understandable because he was making assumptions based on vague details—and even then he was generally correct. Early in his life, he had been chosen to be Leader of the Light. With this responsibility came added understanding, logic, a bit of premonition, and above all, promptings from Magic itself. These added skills kept Dumbledore from making great mistakes. But Magic's direction for him was becoming less and less clear. And when Dumbledore's emotions and feelings for Harry entered the equation, the right choice became harder and harder to make.

Harry Potter defied his logic and understanding, for he felt a grandfatherly love for the boy. He wanted nothing more than to take the boy and hide him on some distant island to keep him from danger. It started the night before the Potters went into hiding. He held Harry in his arms, the young toddler playing with his beard. Then the boy looked into Dumbledore's eyes, and Albus' heart melted. He had never seen such innocence and purity in someone's soul as when looked into Harry's bright, green eyes.

Months later, at the direction of Magic, he left him in the hands of muggles. For years, as Dumbledore received news of the emotional abuse Harry suffered at his relatives' hands, he had to wonder _why_? Why was the Boy-who-lived to receive such treatment? Had he, Dumbledore, understood the will of Magic incorrectly? Had Dumbledore made a mistake?

Hindsight, normally a perfect vision, still could not give him a clear answer. While it was crystal clear the boy never felt love here, he also became a wonderful human being. Was this because of, or despite, his difficult upbringing? Was Harry simply being prepared and shaped by his surroundings into the pure and humble young man he became?

Albus neared Number 4 Privet Drive and stood still, staring at the house. He gazed at the porch where he had left Harry nearly fifteen years earlier and tried to keep himself from asking 'what if'. He had little love in this home, and Albus hoped the boy would never have to return, blood protection or no blood protection. Albus was fairly sure, if he understood the plan correctly, that Harry would never set foot in this house again. And that gave Albus cause to smile, if only for a moment.

Albus reflected briefly on the boy's journey since leaving this house the first time. Albus had been intrigued to find out what kind of a boy he had become. Mrs. Figg had told him some vague things, but he couldn't completely trust her perceptions. As it turned out, his character was better than Albus had ever hoped. He was smart, kind, brave, and a bit mischievous. Albus was amazed as the eleven year-old defeated a troll, hid a dragon for a friend's sake, and became the youngest seeker in a century. Albus was prompted that year to bring the Stone to Hogwarts, despite having it on good authority Voldemort was after it. It seemed that Harry was to be tested, to be trained and molded by experience. And boy, did he pass.

His second year he faced fear and death in the form of a basilisk and a teenage Voldemort, all the while dealing with his fellow students turning against him. Albus didn't know _all _of the details perfectly, but he had a suspicion the boy had also created Polyjuice Potion with his friends and escaped the lair of Acromantulas. Again, Albus saw Harry become a hero, build character that no other boy could or should have at his age.

Up until Harry's third year, Dumbledore knew of Harry's bravery, desire to do good, and magical potential. What he didn't expect was Harry's great mercy he demonstrated towards his parents' betrayer, Peter Pettigrew. If there was any doubt left in Albus' mind that Harry would gain the power that Voldemort knows not, it vanished as Harry confirmed his pure heart on that night.

Unfortunately, Albus' bad decisions continued that night as well. It would have been the perfect time to hear the prophecy. He had just heard Professor Trelawny give a real one earlier that day. He knew that Peter would be rushing off to find his Master. He had experienced enough in his life that he could take it. But Albus had wanted to keep him safe just a little longer. He ignored the little voice in his head that told him it was time.

The old man shut his eyes tightly and shook his head. _And you always know best, don't you?_ He chided himself. That was when the promptings from Magic started to get dimmer and less frequent. He should have trusted them, should have trusted Harry.

Albus made excuse after excuse. Too young, too traumatized, too vulnerable to Voldemort's mind. But the problem was never with Harry. It was with Albus.

Too hesitant. Too disillusioned. Too scared.

Albus raised his hand to knock on the door before him. He feared what awaited him on the other side. Would Harry have cracked, the latest of his traumas being too great to handle on his own? Would he resent Albus for everything that had happened? Albus knew in his heart of hearts that Harry was better than all of that. Better than him.

He knocked on the door and waited. Inside, he heard a man grumbling about unexpected visitors at ungodly hours. Albus smiled to himself when he realized Harry hadn't warned his aunt and uncle. Perhaps he would be able to get back at the pair for the contempt with which they raised Harry.

The door swung open, and a portly man stood inside. The man's jaw dropped as he looked Albus up and down. Albus always prided himself on his eccentricities—in dress and behavior. It kept his friends entertained and his enemies guessing. And right now, Vernon Dursley was certainly stuck guessing what exactly stood before him.

"Good evening, Mr. Dursley. My name is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I expect you are having a good day?"

The man just gaped back at him. Albus smiled back at him. "Is Harry home?"

After a long pause, where Vernon seemed to gather himself, he turned his head and shouted back into his home, "BOY!" Dumbledore noticed that Vernon was slowly closing the door, and blocking the shrinking entrance with his impressive girth.

Because of his height, however, Albus could easily see over Vernon's shoulder as Harry reached the bottom of the stairs and slowly walked to the door, dragging his trunk. Albus sighed in relief that the boy looked healthy enough. Whether by malnourishment from his relatives or a lack of appetite from guilt and sorrow, Dumbledore had feared Harry would not be taken care of during his three week stay at the Dursley's.

But his fears were alleviated as Harry stepped forward, his movements sure and strong. His head was up, and his eyes met Albus' own. Gone was the innocence that had captured his heart when Harry was but a small child. But, miraculously, the purity remained.

"Boy," Vernon's harsh tone interrupted Albus' train of thought. "Someone is here to see you, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't have your freak friends come calling at _my house_!"

Harry held his uncle's gaze, and Albus had to wonder how long Harry had been able to stand up to his Uncle's verbal abuse. "Of course, Uncle Vernon. Though you may be pleased to know that this caller is here to take me away from _your house_. Sorry to have burdened you _so much_ these past few weeks," Harry said caustically. Harry turned to Albus and spoke, much to Albus' relief, in a much softer tone. "Evening, Professor."

"Good evening, Harry," Albus replied kindly, not letting his nerves show in his demeanor or voice.

Vernon's face was red. "Well, what are you waiting for, then? Get out!"

"Gladly," Harry replied. "If you would just move to the side so I can leave. Unless you want me walking through the wall?"

Albus was sure Harry didn't know the magic necessary to walk though solid objects, but Vernon wouldn't know that. Growing redder in the face, apparently appalled that Harry would even _consider_ performing magic in his home, Vernon threw the door open and stepped aside.

Albus smiled as Harry walked past him onto the front porch. Albus turned back to Vernon who was trying to reach the door to shut it quickly. "Thank you, Mr. Dursley, for your hospitality. I think a reward is in order—perhaps a remodel, free of charge?"

Vernon's eyes widened in fear as Dumbledore raised and waved his wand. "Have a great day," Dumbledore said, turning on his heel and leading Harry with him. Albus was happy to see an amused smile on Harry's face as he craned his neck to see the Dursley's new front room. Number 4 Privet Drive now seemed to be going for a Hogwarts look, with the entryway tile being replaced by old, warn stone. The drab pastel curtains were now bright purple with yellow stars gleaming brightly on them. The simple rug was now lavish and lush, and ornate picture frames filled with paintings of Merlin and the Knights of the Round Table hung on the walls. One of the frames even held a beaming Harry Potter—the first picture of him the house had ever seen.

After sending his trunk ahead to the Burrow, Albus led Harry down the sidewalk towards the boundaries of the anti-apparation wards. "Harry, I would like to make a stop before we go to the Burrow. But I will understand completely if you don't want to." Albus stopped and turned to look at Harry before adding, "I would like to take you to Grimmauld Place to show you something and discuss your future."

Harry's eyes darkened for a moment. He looked down at his feet and shook his head slowly. When he looked back up, his face was full of resolve. "I didn't expect to go back so soon…why are we going?"

"I'd rather not talk here, Ha—"

"No!" Harry interrupted harshly. Albus paused, worried about Harry's outburst. He could make several conjectures as to why Harry would be upset at this moment, but decided just to let the boy explain himself.

"Sorry, sir. I shouldn't have…"

"Of course you should have, Harry. What is it?"

Harry swallowed. "I've made some decisions, sir. I've already gone against one of my goals, though, in order to follow through on another."

"Decisions, Harry?"

"Fix my attitude, for one. Not so successful so far," Harry chuckled lightly. "Also, I don't want to be led around blindly any more. I want to know what is going on so I can prepare myself for Voldemort." Harry looked back at Albus, the resolve on his face once more.

"So, I guess I'm going to ask you as kindly as I can why we are going to Grimmauld Place so I can decide if I want to or not."

Albus felt pride and shame simultaneously fill his heart. While he may not be perfectly executing them, Harry's intentions were once more as pure as possible. He had made mature goals that were his to make and was trying to follow through on them. Albus was proud of the boy. Meanwhile, Albus continued to show his own sense of superiority in assuming he knew better than Harry. He shook himself as he tried to readjust his frame of mind.

"Well, Harry, just as you have come up short with one of your goals, so have I. I had hoped to keep you more informed—in fact, that's what the trip to Grimmauld Place is all about. And ironically, I reverted back to my previous mindset on my way to rectifying it."

Harry smiled softly. "Well, as long as we're both making mistakes, I guess we can't hold it against each other too much."

Albus nodded. "I would appreciate that very much, Harry. And to answer your earlier question, I would like to take you to Grimmauld place to discuss the war, your role in it, and your training—if you want it, that is. The reason for going to Grimmauld Place to have this discussion is that your training will be taking place there this summer. Again, if you want it."

Harry's eyes seemed to brighten at the thought before he said, "I'd like that very much. The training, I mean. And I suppose I'm going to have to go to Grimmauld Place at some point. What's the difference between sooner rather than later, right?" Harry seemed to be saying this more to himself than to Albus.

"Well, then come along. We are nearly outside of the anti-apparation wards." They began walking, and Albus explained to him how side-along apparation worked. Soon enough, they were outside the wards, but before Harry grabbed onto Albus' arm, figurative alarm bells started to ring in Albus' head. "Wand out," he ordered Harry softly as he raised his own.

He knew there were Death Eaters close. Odds are that they were simply spying on the house from as close as the protective wards would allow. Certainly they wouldn't be foolish enough to attack Albus Dumbledore. Just as the thought crossed his mind, however, a brightly colored hex soared through the air at him.

With a wave of his wand, the orange-hued spell halted and reversed its trajectory. Albus watched as a shield went up to protect the disillusioned caster. Albus waved his wand several more times. A nearby plastic pink flamingo flew to life and soared overhead at the same time as the Death Eater lost his invisibility charm. Meanwhile a second and third Death Eater were revealed from their own hiding places. Finally, a small anti-apparation dome came into place. Albus hoped that his aggressors would have no portkeys, as portkey wards took much more time and energy to put into place.

Seeing that they were discovered, the Death Eaters nodded to themselves and began throwing curses at Albus and Harry. Albus was glad to see Harry immediately protect himself with a shield charm and move towards a street lamp to offer a physical shield as well. Albus approached the three Death Eaters confidently, with the flamingo flying overhead. He sidestepped two killing curses while returning his own fire. Years of dueling experience and magic sensing gave him a great advantage, as he was always a step ahead of the Death Eaters. His transfigured flamingo soared from behind the Death Eaters, hitting one in the back of the head. This opening was all Albus needed to render the man unconscious with a simple stunning curse. One of the other Death Eaters then turned his attention on the flamingo, deciding to take out the easiest target first.

Had the situation not been serious, Albus would have laughed at the man's stupid use of the killing curse. He was wasting precious magical energy on a transfigured flamingo. This left a second opening, and the Death Eater dropped quickly. Dumbledore turned his attention on the third Death Eater, who was engaged in a guerrilla-style fight with Harry. Dumbledore decided to let the fight play out, commanding his flamingo to stay close should it need to take a hit for Harry.

Albus watched the boy fight with pride. Here he was—basically a muggle-born wizard for all intents and purposes—fighting on pure instinct. He was untrained in the art of dueling, using the most basic of spells, yet holding his own against a Death Eater. Granted, the two Death Eaters Albus fought were not the most talented, but they had likely finished their schooling and spent time among other Death Eaters exchanging knowledge and practicing. The third Death Eater that was attacking Harry seemed a little more adept than the two Albus took out.

Much like Albus, this Death Eater was using transfiguration to his advantage. Large spikes emerged from the paved road, traveling towards Harry's location like a bullwhip, rippling in the pavement. Harry dove out from behind the streetlamp from which he fought just before a large spike emerged from the pavement where he just stood, tipping the lamppost at a sharp angle. Harry rolled quickly to his feet and was able to fire a couple of quick curses low at the Death Eater's feet with his off hand. At the same time, he picked up a chunk of pavement that had broken off from the spike and hurled it at the Death Eater's face.

The masked man, who had been progressing on Harry's position, was able to shield the curses at his feet but leaned away from the chunk of pavement too slowly, and it hit his upper cheek. Crying out in pain as blood immediately began pouring from the gash in his cheek, the Death Eater threw a few more curses at Harry, albeit with much less accuracy. Harry leapt behind his neighbor's series of bushes and crawled in hiding. Soon, the bushes lit up in flames, forcing Harry to back away.

Harry leapt over the burning bush and through the flames, surprising the Death Eater, and launched several simple spells at the Death Eater. The Death Eater blocked most of them with his shield, but one snuck through underneath the shield, and Albus was unable to contain a chuckle as the Death Eater's legs turned to jelly. He wobbled in place for a moment, glancing at his legs in surprise. After all, who used a jelly-legs hex in a duel with a Death Eater?

This moment of confusion was enough for Harry as he continued with his momentum and rushed the Death Eater with several more curses. The man was soon unconscious with a bleeding nose to go with his cheek, and Harry stood over him, breathing deeply. "Not the prettiest, but it got the job done, right?"

"Right you are," Albus responded with a smile. Watching Harry gave Albus a very clear direction as to where he wanted to take his training. Harry was raw and untrained, but his instinct was spot on. He knew how to lay down fire when moving from cover to cover, how to use his surroundings both in the offensive and defensive attack, and how to preserve his energy by using weak spells until he could deliver a more powerful blow with more surety. "These were the most basic of Death Eaters, however. After I'm done with you, you will be able to match up against Voldemort's Inner Circle."

Harry laughed bitterly. "Well, ideally I can match up with Voldemort himself—not just the Inner Circle."

Albus smiled at Harry's lightened attitude about the prophecy and sent a Patronus to alert Kingsley of the capture of three Death Eaters. Confident that the Death Eaters were tied up and no longer a threat, Albus put out the flames. He would let the Ministry take care of other damages to the neighborhood. He motioned for Harry to grab his arm. They disapparated with a _crack _and soon stood outside of Grimmauld Place. Albus waited patiently as Harry oriented himself after his first apparation and steeled himself for entering his deceased Godfather's home.

After a few moments, Harry looked up at Albus and nodded. Albus smiled warmly at the boy before leading him up the walkway and through the front door. He heard Harry take a deep breath as he entered the house behind him. Albus led him through the entryway, down the hall, and into the sitting room, where Albus received a severe shock to his system.

Albus pulled out his wand in fear and confusion, prepared to throw up a shield to defend himself and Harry. But Sirius Black, sitting on his couch looking alive and quite comfortable, just grinned up at them.

"What great timing! I've only just gotten home."


	3. Attitude

**A/N: Thanks to the great reviewers! You always make me much more inclined to a quick update, so let me know what you think! This chapter will simply tease you about some elements of this story that will be fleshed out much more in the coming chapters, namely Harry's relationships with Sirius, Dumbledore, Ginny, etc, and what his training might entail. Enjoy! **

Harry Potter and the Lord of Immortality

Chapter Two: Attitude

* * *

"All I'm saying is that we don't know what we're going to get from him."

'"He'll be fine, Ron."

"You didn't hang out with him this past year, Ginny. He could be in a deep depression. He could be ready to explode at any moment."

"Ron, I was around him plenty and I'm telling you, he'll be fine."

"How do you know that?"

"Because he's Harry."

-0-0-0-

It took Harry several long moments to recover from his shock at seeing his godfather alive and well in his home. Later that night, Harry would berate himself about the experience. Had a Death Eater played this sick trick on him and took the form of Sirius through Polyjuice, Harry would have been incapacitated from shock for long enough to be defeated easily. But it wasn't a Death Eater. This was Sirius Black, back from the dead. He had no silvery glimmer of a ghost, but was flesh and blood. On top of that, he looked healthier than Harry had ever seen him.

Harry slowly shifted his gaze to Dumbledore—afraid that if he let Sirius out of his sight, he might disappear. But he finally looked to Dumbledore to verify that this was Sirius. Dumbledore had out his wand and had just finished a series of charms, which Harry assumed were spells to confirm that this was indeed Sirius. His face, and the expression there, told Harry it was truly Sirius. Confusion.

There was no fear, as Harry had seen when Voldemort had disappeared at the Ministry and entered Harry's mind. There was no anger as might be the case if the Weasley twins were playing a sick prank. There was no lack of emotion, as might be the case if Dumbledore already knew what was going on—like if the Most Noble House of Black had a magic within it that recreated the image of its last owner.

No, this was confusion—meaning Sirius was really back, and Dumbledore had absolutely _no idea_ how it was possible.

"Sirius?" Harry finally managed to say, looking back at the man.

Sirius merely burst out laughing. "Oh why, _why_, didn't I set up a camera to capture your expressions?"

Harry rushed forward and embraced his godfather, who hugged him back tightly. After a brief moment Harry pulled back and shook his head. "How?"

Sirius merely smiled again.

"Yes," Harry heard Dumbledore concur. He turned to look at the old man again, and was somewhat impressed to find any trace of confusion or shock was gone. He was smiling widely, a spark in his eyes. "How did you make your way back?"

A light came to Sirius' own eyes. "I'm not exactly sure." He paused for a moment, as if trying to recall what had happened. "I fell through the veil and landed in a room. It was like a waiting room at St. Mungos. And I stood up and there were two doors. I understood immediately that the one door was the next life. I wanted to go there so badly—I can't describe it. This deep longing pulled me towards that door. It was all I could do to look behind me to the second option, to the veil I had just fallen through.

"I felt sick to my stomach looking back. Sure, there were reasons to go back…" Sirius looked directly at Harry. "Protect you at that battle, help you get ready for Voldemort, revenge on Wormtail and Bellatrix…

"But I knew I could do nothing as a ghost, so those reasons felt like nothing compared to the pull of that first door. So I walked towards it. I turned the knob, opened the door…and your dad was standing there. He looked upset with me, and I knew why. I failed as your godfather. I failed to avenge his and Lily's deaths…I just failed in general."

Harry wanted to argue with Sirius. He didn't feel like Sirius had failed. He'd gotten a rotten deal in life, and things just didn't go his way. But before he could make his case, Sirius continued. "He never said any of that, of course. In fact, he looked happy to see me right after that. But then he told me to just wait in the room. When I asked him why, he just asked me to do it for him. And for you, Harry."

"For me?" Harry asked, confused.

"As it turns out, whoever is in charge on that side of the veil—or just the collective dead, maybe-is not at all happy with Voldemort. James said there are laws above good and evil—laws of mortality and existence. And Voldemort has broken those laws. They keep close tabs on this life, and said that to keep the balance, they would break a law themselves and send me back—but not as a ghost. It took them a few weeks to come to that conclusion, of course. And with that door pulling me like it was, that month felt like an eternity."

"But why you?" Dumbledore asked.

"Thanks, Albus," Sirius responded, feigning hurt. "I'm flattered by your joy at me being able to come back."

When Dumbledore just narrowed his eyes, Sirius smiled and explained. "Well, when most blokes die, their soul leaves their body. So when they return, only their soul can come back. With me, my entire body and soul fell through the veil. Going through that door would have split them so that I could join James in the next stage of existence. And going through the veil again would have split anyone else's body and soul as well, sending only the spirit back. But like I said, they broke a rule for me."

"Remarkable," Dumbledore said softly. "A glimpse into the next great adventure…"

"You have no idea," Sirius said. "The feelings I had when I looked at that door….if it wasn't for the great responsibility I have here, or the knowledge that they'd punish me for committing suicide, I would be tempted to die right now just to go back. It's going to be wonderful."

Suddenly, a flame lit in Sirius' eyes. He looked at Harry with a hard expression. "But now is not the time for that. Now it is up to us to help _this_ life be wonderful. That's ultimately the goal, I think. What we do here for others will give us what's ours in the next life. So let's make this a world a place with a little less evil and a little more good."

Harry's heart swelled within him and he knew Sirius spoke the truth. The life Harry had seen so far had been tumultuous and trying. It had seen death and pain. But Harry would have to be the world's greatest pessimist to not acknowledge the good in his life, too. He had received tremendous love from his parents, even if he didn't know them. He had found friends, true friends who would die for him and he for them. He had experienced the freedom of flying on a broomstick and the exhilarating drama of a failed relationship. He had felt the joy of giving people their lives back such as Ginny before a basilisk and Sirius before Dementors.

Yes, Harry had had a good life when all was said and done. And he wanted to give that goodness to those he loved and cared for.

"I could not have said it better myself, Sirius," Dumbledore said after a moment of silence. He appeared very pensive, as if reflecting on his own life's worth. "And I think the best way for us to fend off evil and brighten the light is to help Harry here."

Sirius nodded, taking whatever hint Dumbledore was giving him. "Ever wonder what I was up to all of last year cooped up in this awful home?"

"And where I spent my time once I was forced out of Hogwarts?" Dumbledore added.

"Did you finish it?" Sirius asked to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore nodded with a small smile hidden in his beard. "I'm sure there are things we can add as we go along, but it is very functional."

Harry looked confusedly between the two of them. "What are you on about?"

Sirius smiled at Harry. "Early in your last school year Dumbledore told me to start construction on a training room here. It started out simple, protection wards for practicing dangerous spells, a few training simulations with spell-casting dummies, a dueling arena.

"But after he got run out of Hogwarts, he told me about the Room of Requirement you guys met in last year. We started to get some ideas, do a little more research. And…well, follow us."

Intrigued and excited, Harry followed Sirius down the hallway. They stopped in the middle of the hallway where nothing special existed. There was just a painting of a vast expanse of Scottish mountains and valleys. Sirius took out his wand and waved it in the pattern of a star at the wall opposite the painting. A door that Harry had never seen before materialized in front of him. "Was this always here?" Harry asked.

"Yes. But we kept the entrance hidden from everyone. You're only the fourth person to know about this. Moony also helped out some." Sirius opened the door, leading to a set of stairs. "We used to have an ugly, dark basement with a potions lab and a lot of spiders. Over the years, the lab became useless, so we figured this was the perfect place to build the training room."

They walked down the stairs and into a poorly lit basement. Harry could tell the floor and walls were a shade darker than when they had been built years earlier. There were no decorations on the walls, the wood-paneled floor was as bare as could be, and the only light came from some flickering torches on the walls.

"Training simulation: single Death Eater," Harry heard Sirius say beside him.

Harry felt a pull in his navel, very similar to when he was portkeyed somewhere. He lifted a foot in the air as the room around him began shifting. Suddenly, the dark, dank room expanded and lit up. The ceiling stretched out into a blue nothingness, the walls faded as well, leaving empty space as far as the eye could see. Blades of grass began growing out of the ground as the wood floor was replaced by a large field.

Harry looked around in amazement as he touched back down. He had to remind himself he was in Sirius' basement and it was night-time. As he took in his surroundings, however, it was hard to believe he wasn't in the very painting that he had seen at the top of the stairs in the hallway. Sweeping mountains stood on either side of Harry, while he resided in the valley between them. Green grass and occasional trees surrounded him. In the far distance, a Death Eater stood, unmoving.

Harry's wand came out instinctively. But given who he was with, he wasn't at all afraid of the Death Eater's presence. "This is incredible," Harry said softly. "So are there boundaries in here? Is it just an illusion and I'll walk into the wall if I go a few feet that way?" Harry pointed to where a wall existed just moments earlier.

Dumbledore responded. "Not at all. With some serious study of Pensieve magic, we have created a way to remove your conscious and place you in a new world of sorts. If someone were to walk down the stairs right now, they would find the three of us simply standing in a dark basement. Except that they would also be pulled into this world…"

"So if it's just my consciousness that is here, will I really be training? It doesn't seem like it would help once I'm using my actual body."

"Your magical power and potential resides completely in what you are currently using. It is true that your physical body will experience much less change during these simulations. If this Death Eater, for instance, were to come cast a cutting charm on you, you would begin bleeding here. But if you ended the simulation, your body would have received no physical harm, but you might be sweating and breathing heavily from the psychological effects of the simulation."

Sirius piped in. "So if you want to get some physical exercise, this isn't the place to come. It will build your magical endurance, you will learn new spells, and be able to practice rare or trying scenarios."

"So what is this scenario?"

Sirius responded. "Well, this is a simple dueling scenario. We didn't specify where we wanted it, so the Training Room chose a location from our memories or imaginations. And that Death Eater is a responsive opponent."

"Responsive opponent?"

"He attacks only after you've instigated the attack. His level of difficulty is based completely on your ability. As you increase the power or frequency of the spells, he will do the same."

Harry looked back at the Death Eater, who still just stood there. "That's incredible! So I can never beat him?"

"There is a law of magic," Dumbledore said in a very professorial manner. "That states that our magical creations can be no more powerful or intuitive than the creator himself."

Sirius smiled. "And because Dumbledore created this aspect of the Training Room, that Death Eater there has a pretty high ceiling."

Dumbledore nodded, but instructed once more. "It is true. That Death Eater will be able to draw on all of my knowledge and power. His choices will be similar to my own. This will make him a very difficult opponent, but not undefeatable. In fact, I would always defeat him unless I purposefully lost. He is still just a magical creation and as such does not have the human intuition that we carry with us."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked curiously.

"If you do something that I have never seen before, you will catch him off guard. He will be able to draw on my knowledge, of course, and he might be able to figure it out, but there is a delay compared to human instinct."

"Doesn't seem like much of a hope to beat him," Harry said shaking his head.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, making him look up into his blue eyes. "You have defeated Voldemort, a basilisk, Tom Riddle, survived another Voldemort attack, and the Ministry raid due solely to your instinct." Dumbledore looked up at the Death Eater. "I don't think he could have done any of that."

Harry looked down at his feet. It was true that he escaped all of those messes—and his magical knowledge and ability were certainly not the reason why.

"Go ahead and have at him," Sirius said, motioning towards the Death Eater.

Harry nodded and marched forward. He had to admit he felt very self-conscious in front of Sirius and Dumbledore. When he held up his wand, he wondered at the age restriction he had for using magic. When he looked back to ask the question, however, Dumbledore merely nodded at him, confirming that he had somehow taken care of that particular problem.

So, taking a deep breath, Harry turned back to the Death Eater and launched his first spell. "_Stupefy!"_ A beam of red light shot from his wand, hurtling towards the Death Eater. The masked enemy lifted his own wand and easily blocked the spell, his own incantation ringing in Harry's ears.

"_Protego_!" was soon, though not immediately, followed by the Death Eater's own "_Stupefy!"_

It was clear that this Death Eater would do just as Harry's mentors told him. He would match Harry's own ability and speed. This gave Harry confidence, knowing that his enemy was going to reciprocate his own intensity, and knowing that it would be nearly impossible to defeat the Death Eater also gave Harry a strange comfort. He could just do his best, and then not be upset when the outcome was not favorable.

With this in mind, Harry began throwing curses rapidly at his target. Naturally, the target began blocking the curses and sending his own right back. The curses began to differentiate, and Harry found himself employing a mixture of blocking spells with magic and dodging unfamiliar curses by ducking and diving out of the way.

Soon, sweat poured down Harry's face, which was an odd concept because he knew he wasn't really using his physical body in this exercise. He wondered—as far as his strained mind could wonder at the moment—whether he would be sweating in Grimmauld Place's basement when he returned. The mixture of Harry's fatigue and distraction proved to be enough of a drop in performance to allow the Death Eater to gain superiority, and soon a cutting curse got around Harry's shield and hit his left shoulder. Grimacing in pain, Harry tried to retaliate, but soon found the Death Eater's attacks too quick for him to both defend and attack simultaneously.

Deciding to go out with a bang, Harry gave all that he had in several quick and powerful bludgeoning curses. The Death Eater deflected them in all directions, and Harry noticed with satisfaction that one appeared to hit the Death Eater's leg, breaking it. But then to Harry's horror, one of his own curses came back in his own direction. Before he could throw up a shield, the curse hit Harry square in the chest and he flew backwards.

The pain of broken ribs immediately disappeared and Harry pulled himself off the ground and opened his eyes. He was once again lying in a dim basement, on hard, wood floor. The trees were gone, replaced by two figures towering over him and grinning.

Harry got to his feet, and found that his face was, indeed, covered in sweat. His heart beat was accelerated and his breathing quickened. Harry smiled and said between deep breaths, "I think this will do just fine!"

Sirius nodded and responded. "And that's just the tip of the iceberg."

-0-0-0-

A short time later, Harry found himself walking towards the Burrow, with Albus Dumbledore by his side. Even though it was late at night, the air was warm. The moon provided a light enough to see comfortably. Harry wondered idly if Remus was doing okay as the full moon approached, but his thoughts were not too consumed by this somewhat sad topic.

In fact, Harry couldn't stop grinning. He was still in shock at Sirius being alive and well. To top it all off, his goal of being able to train and prepare for Voldemort had just become achievable. For the first time since Voldemort had been resurrected, Harry felt like he was in control of his own life. That no external force would dictate his actions—even a prophecy.

He still had a long road ahead of him, but now it was his road to walk on, and he could take it at his own pace.

It was a comfort to know Dumbledore had been preparing for this time when Harry would need to train. He wished, of course, that he had been informed of the prophecy much earlier. However, that was in the past now, and Harry knew he needed to look forward. Even if he found it difficult to do.

He turned to Dumbledore as they neared the front door. "Thank you, sir, for doing this for me."

Dumbledore smiled. "And thank you, Harry, for accepting it all."

Harry thought about Dumbledore's words as the man knocked on the Weasley's front door. It was an important distinction, Harry realized, that he was accepting the prophecy and its implications as opposed to the prophecy forcing Harry to behave a certain way.

Harry determined that the prophecy should be treated no differently than any other known event of one's future. Harry knew he would have to go to Hogwarts for his sixth year. He could either let this annoy him that he was forced to do schooling and take classes that he didn't want to, or he could accept that it was a part of his life and make the best of what might have been an annoying situation.

Now, he just had one more event in his life that he knew was coming—a fight to the death with Voldemort. So, let it depress and control him or take advantage of this knowledge and make the best of it? He would gladly choose the latter.

The door before him opened, and the Weasley matriarch stood at the door. She smiled down at Harry and scooped him up in a tight, warm hug. "Oh, Harry dear! Come in, come in!"

Harry released himself from Mrs. Weasley and stepped inside. Behind him, he heard Mrs. Weasley invite Dumbledore in for tea. While Dumbledore declined, Harry found Ron and Ginny coming down the stairs, apparently alerted to his arrival by the knock on the door. Harry grinned at his best mate, who arrived first and they greeted with a handshake and one armed hug.

"It's great to see you, mate," Harry said, in as good a mood as he ever remembered being. Sirius was alive, he was at the Burrow. It was strange to think just days earlier he had been in a very dark place.

Ron seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he looked at Harry with a very surprised and almost confused look on his face. "You too, mate. Dursleys weren't too bad then?"

Harry shook his head and kept smiling. "Nah, not too bad." He was suddenly very glad that Sirius had asked him not to share his resurrection with the Weasleys just yet. He wanted to surprise them himself. But in the meantime, Harry was having fun confusing Ron with his good temperament. This also caused Harry to briefly berate himself for his horrible disposition much of the previous year.

But these thoughts disappeared as he turned to Ginny. It wasn't often that Harry saw Ginny outside of her Hogwarts robes. And when he did, she was normally dressed for the winter. As such, he had never really noticed what a beautiful young woman she had become. Her clothes were very form-fitting at the moment, which was a very flattering look on her. Her shorts and sleeves were short, revealing shapely legs and a creamy skin that made Harry briefly scan her frame. He felt slightly embarrassed for doing this, but didn't think anyone had noticed.

"Ginny, you look great!" Harry said, pulling her into a hug. He was somewhat surprised by his own behavior, but found everything so natural, perhaps due to his good mood. He pulled her back to arm's length and smiled at her broadly. "Your summer is going well?"

Ginny also seemed taken aback, but perhaps more so by his compliment and hug than by his mood. She also looked very happy and pleased with this interaction, and Harry was grateful that his good mood had made all of this instinctual. He liked the feeling of making Ron and Ginny happy, and vowed to make this a part of his attitude adjustment in the future.

"Very well, thank you," Ginny responded. "Excited to be here?"

Harry released her arms and turned back to his trunk. Pulling it forward he grinned back at Ginny. "You have no idea." Harry turned to Ron as he pulled his trunk towards the stairs. Nodding at Ron, he asked, "Help me out, Ron?"

Ron shook himself out of whatever stupor he was in and nodded. "Sure thing, mate."

Later that night, after everyone had settled down, Harry and Ron went to bed. It took Harry quite a while to slow his mind down and make his breathing slow and even. Just twenty four hours earlier, he had been throwing a tennis ball up and down in his room at Privet Drive. He had been mourning the death of his Godfather—albeit in a productive and positive manner. When he shared his goals with Sirius earlier, Sirius had said that was the way he would've wanted his death to affect Harry. Fortunately, though, his death had miraculously not lasted as long as the average death does. Now Harry sat in Ron's room at the Burrow, with his goals in reach and his godfather alive and well. He would need no tennis ball to ease his mind to fall asleep again.

And Harry drifted into a very peaceful sleep.

Harry awoke abruptly to the sound of scuffling in his room. Bleary eyed, he looked up quickly, reaching for his wand at his bedside. Before his hand closed around his weapon, he saw a bright light and faded back into oblivion.

When Harry awoke next, still bleary-eyed and foggy, he found himself lying outside. He was in the middle of a long dirt road which seemed to go on forever. On either side of him was a brown, wooden fence that stretched out the length of the road. On the other side of the fences lay vast fields. Based on the dim lighting in the sky, Harry guessed it was five in the morning.

But there was one more thing that Harry noticed about his surroundings, even in his fuzzy state. It was unnaturally cold for a summer morning.

Instinctually, Harry knew he should be looking for his wand. However, fear crept into his being as he cast his eyes upward to find the source of the cold. And down they came, dozens of Dementors, swooping in to feast on the one soul within miles.

Finally, Harry's instincts overcame his fear, and he searched his pajamas and the ground for his wand, frantically keeping an eye on the approaching Dementors. Finally, he spotted his wand several feet away and dove towards it. As he felt his hand wrap around the familiar stick, his head began swimming. He could hear faint screams of his mother in the distance.

_No_! Harry thought to himself, trying to reach his easily accessible happy memories of the night previous. However, his mother's screaming grew louder, and Harry's focus on his godfather's revival faded before he shouted, "_Expecto Patronum!"_

Little more than a silver wisp emerged from Harry wand. One Dementor backed away slowly, but three more took its place. Falling to the ground, his vision filling with black dots, Harry feebly said, "_Expecto…Patronum…"_

And for the third time in a very short period of time, Harry's subconscious emerged victorious over his conscious.


	4. To Train

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews. Having written many chapters before posting this story, it's interesting to look back and remember how it all started. Compared to future chapters, the first few are admittedly slower than those that are coming. I think you'll really enjoy each chapter more than the last from here on out. You'll get some nice beginnings to Harry-Ginny, some fun with Sirius, and a little political intrigue. So, enjoy and let me know what you think!**

Harry Potter and the Lord of Immortality

Chapter 3: To Train

* * *

"I still don't think it was fair."

"He's defeated more Dementors than that before. With you, I might add."

"But this time he didn't have any warning!"

"He had enough time. If he'd have just trusted his instincts instead of giving in to fear…"

-0-0-0-

Harry's thoughts began to swim around his head. It took a moment for him to remember what had happened. He was sleeping at the Burrow…then he woke up. But then someone attacked him! Dementors? No, those came later…

The Dementors overpowered him. How was he still alive? Then again, Harry didn't know what it would feel like to be given the Dementor's kiss.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. He was in a dimly lit room, without any windows. A little light was coming from a staircase. Harry realized he was in Sirius' basement and relief and frustration flooded him.

It was all a training exercise in the room that Sirius and Dumbledore had prepared for him! And he had failed…

Harry sat up from his back, and when his shirt clung to himself with cold sweat, Harry found that his body must have felt the full affects of the Dementors. In fact, he felt quite cold and clammy and wished he had some chocolate with which to warm himself.

As if on cue, footsteps came from the staircase, and Harry saw Sirius carrying a brick of chocolate down.

"Ah, you're up!"

Harry shivered as he got to his feet. "I thought I was supposed to wake up as soon as the simulation ended."

"Normally, you should…but Dementors have a peculiar affect on you, and it seems as though your memory of them is strong enough to make you pass out both in the simulation and in the real world."

Harry sighed as he took a piece of chocolate that Sirius handed to him. "I can't believe how dumb I was!"

Sirius shook his head. "Harry, you can't possibly expect to be able to recover from passing out and immediately fend off Dementors. I thought you did a good job."

"I had enough time," Harry said softly, through a mouthful of chocolate. The sweet food tasted wonderful, and felt wonderful as warmth began spreading throughout his body. "I even thought about my wand immediately, but was more concerned about sighting the Dementors…"

Sirius seemed to study Harry for a moment. "You know…that's what Dumbledore said. That if you'd have trusted your instincts, you could have defeated them."

Harry looked up sharply from his chocolate. "Dumbledore saw that?" Harry asked, immediately more embarrassed by his failure than he had been before. "How could you guys watch? I didn't see anyone out there."

Sirius pushed more chocolate into Harry's hand, but Harry paid it little attention. "We were invisible to you…like when you view a memory, you can stand right next to someone and shout obscenities at them, but they don't know that someone is watching them."

Harry nodded and continued to chomp away at the chocolate. After a while, Harry commented, "You guys definitely caught me off guard…When you said my training would start bright and early today, I just expected an early wakeup call, not abduction."

Sirius laughed, and while Harry didn't find it so funny, he noticed how contagious his godfather's laugh was. He felt his mood lighten considerably and remembered how fortunate he was to even have him here. "Well, getting you to rely on your instinct is one of our top priorities this summer. We couldn't think of a better way to get started."

"Well, consider that lesson learned," Harry said with a chuckle. Aside from the lingering sweat on his back, Harry realized his body was mostly back to normal now. "What other top priorities do you have for the summer?"

Sirius looked thoughtful for a moment before listing, "Practical dueling techniques and spells, stealth operations, immunity building…and a couple of other things, surely."

"Immunity building?"

"Well, you will be privy to all of the Order's information from now on—not to mention you are one of two people who know the _exact _wording of the prophecy. So, we need to build your immunity to a couple of potions, like veritaserum, and work on your occlumency."

Harry groaned, remembering his awful experience with that the previous year. Sirius merely laughed again. Harry glared at him, but once again felt his mood lighten somehow. "Don't worry. Ol' Snivelus will not be your teacher. Dumbledore will…now that Voldemort isn't accessing your thoughts anymore."

"Alright…so what do we do now?"

"Well, I think we're good for this morning. You go back and have some fun with your friends this morning—it's still only 6:30. Then this afternoon, we can start some more training."

Harry nodded. Then remembered, "Ron said the twins would be coming for lunch at the Burrow today…"

Sirius got an evil look in his eye. "Then it might just be the perfect time for me to come and say 'hi'."

Half an hour later, Harry had eaten a light breakfast with Sirius and taken the floo back to the Burrow. When he arrived, he found the home still and silent. Harry considered going back to sleep, but figured that wouldn't be a possibility with the excitement of his morning. But he did take a quick trip up to his room to change from his pajamas to some clothes for running in.

Careful not to wake Ron, he changed clothes, grabbed a pair of shoes and made his way outside. He took in a deep breath of the morning air. It was slightly chilly, with the sun just coming up over the hills to the east, but it was so peaceful out. Harry started to run.

During his three week stay at the Dursley's, Harry had determined to be in good physical shape. From his one training exercise where he was left gasping for breath, he knew this had been a good choice. Sure, it was more than necessary to learn additional magic, how to duel, how to act and react in certain circumstances. But it was also important, Harry had decided, to be physically ready as well. So when the time came, he could endure any amount of running, hiding, jumping, and dodging he required to survive Voldemort.

And so Harry began a steady run around the property of The Burrow. At first, it was relatively easy, fun even, as he watched gnomes attacking each other, fighting for spots in the garden. He couldn't help but gaze up at The Burrow whenever he had the chance, just loving the very sight of it. Harry remembered the good times he had had there over the years. Quidditch matches, pranks from the twins, family dinners where family members laughed together and demonstrated their love for one another. As these memories flooded through him, Harry decided he quite enjoyed running.

That is, until his side began to ache.

The remaining twenty minutes of his morning run were not pleasant, but Harry had made a promise to himself. He had to be ready, not only for his own protection, but also for the safety of his friends. He attempted to sigh at the idea, but his breathing was becoming too laborious to allow it. The thought that he would be the one to finish it all, to resuscitate the barely beating heart of the entire wizarding community, was almost too much to bear. It seemed preposterous; yet at the same time, it felt right.

Harry had made his way through the forest that ran along the Burrow's property, and looped back towards the crooked house. He emerged from the thicker trees and found his legs growing heavy and his lungs burning from the swift pace he tried to maintain. Before he made it back to the house, Harry collapsed to the ground, and all he could do was laugh at himself. Unable to go on, with the laughter stealing his precious breath away from him, Harry was decidedly finished for the morning.

Even after the laughter died down, Harry lay on his back for several minutes, breathing deeply. At last he caught his breath, though his heart continued pumping madly, like an incessant drum trying to keep a healthy rhythm. He closed his eyes and let the sun glow warmly on his tired body. He was thankful for the much-needed rest. As he lay there, relaxed, Harry was somewhat startled to hear a voice interrupt his thoughts, which gave him resolve to somehow sharpen his senses as well as his physique.

"Have a nice run?" Ginny asked, sitting down next to Harry.

After recovering from the startle, Harry sat up slightly from his back so that he leaned on his forearms and laughed a little. "I wouldn't exactly use the word 'nice.' "

"Right." Ginny smiled. "I saw you collapse, and wanted to make sure you weren't dead. I had no idea you were this out of shape."

"Hey, I resent that!" Harry said, feigning being upset. "I'll have you know, I was running for…" Harry checked his watch. "Only twenty minutes?" He fell back onto his back let out a sigh of exasperation.

Ginny laughed at Harry's frustration, and just like with Sirius, Harry found that his mood lightened at the sound. "But why?" Ginny asked, as though running was the dumbest thing anybody would willingly do.

"Because, Ginny," he began, motioning to himself, "I am 'this out of shape.' "

Ginny gave another soft laugh that made Harry smile back at her. Harry was surprised to find himself at such ease around Ginny at the moment, as if they were old friends instead of their true relationship as distant friends by association and proximity. He thought it might be because of her loyalty and devotion to him in the Department of Mysteries a month earlier. Or it might be that she no longer displayed any shyness or sign of a crush towards him. Or it could just be that Harry was so happy about Sirius coming back that he was naturally open fun loving at the moment.

"Right…after years of Quidditch, you'd think you'd be able to run a few miles."

Harry considered this for a moment. "Don't get me wrong. Quidditch definitely gave me the core of a Greek God," Harry said, patting his abs. "Thing of beauty, these are. But you don't get endurance from riding a broomstick—besides, you stole my spot on the team, anyway!" Harry made a face like he was angry with her.

Ginny scoffed. "It's a wonder you were ever on the team. Took you three years to get the House Cup. I did it my first year on the team!"

Harry chuckled. "I don't think I ever really told you this, but you did a great job out there." Ginny blushed slightly. "Where'd you learn to fly like that?"

"Years of stealing my brothers' brooms while they weren't looking," Ginny said with a dreamy look on her face, as if recalling her favorite memory. "I'd always wanted my own broom, but Mum was never too keen on the idea that her only girl would be a quidditch player."

"Well, I was very impressed with how good you looked out there." Harry grinned a bit. "Nothing compared to how I look, of course…"

"Prat," Ginny said, hitting his arm. In his weakened state, this hurt Harry a little more than he expected, but he made no sign of it. She then grew serious and brought the derailed conversation back to its origin. "Seriously though…why the running?"

Harry pulled out some grass that he was laying on and stripped some of the blades in his hand. "I figured I spend quite a bit of my time running…you know, from professors, Voldemort…the lady folk…that I had better get used to it."

Ginny, who had laughed at his comment, then asked curiously, "Does it help with magical endurance?"

Harry pondered this for a moment. "Not directly. But if you can dodge a few spells instead of magically blocking them, then you will last longer in a fight. Not to mention how the greatest duelers are moving around constantly and waving their wand arm like mad. It might seem a little silly, but that can wear you out."

Ginny looked thoughtful. "No…it makes sense." She then looked down at Harry with a slightly nervous look on her face. "Do you think…would you mind terribly if I joined you some mornings?"

Harry frowned. "But, like you said, 'why?'"

Ginny's eyebrows knit together. "Well…I'm not stupid, Harry. My family is right in the middle of this war that is starting up. I'm going to have a couple more run-ins with Death Eaters during my life…and I think like you, I need to be prepared. I'd rather suffer a morning run a few times a week than suffer death or worse."

Harry looked confusedly at her. "Worse than death?"

Ginny opened her mouth and seemed to be choosing her words carefully. She cast her eyes back at the Burrow, and Harry knew instantly what she meant and why she was having a hard time verbalizing her thoughts. So Harry did for her. "You'd hate to see your family die…and it be your fault?"

Ginny's eyes snapped back to Harry as he smiled sadly at her. At that moment, Harry felt very bad that he knew that Sirius was alive and Ginny didn't. She probably felt terrible for bringing up this topic now, and Harry regretted putting her in this position.

"Ginny…I didn't mean to…"

But Ginny interrupted him. "I'm proud of you, Harry."

This caught Harry off guard, and he simply responded, "What?"

"With the way you've handled Sirius' death. How you've got such a positive attitude about things. I don't think I would be that strong, and…I'm just proud of you." Ginny looked down, and Harry felt both gratitude and a wave of guilt about keeping the secret from her.

"Well, I was in a pretty dark place for a while." Harry focused on the blades of grass in his hands. He wasn't sure why he was sharing this with Ginny. Maybe it was the guilt he was feeling. "But I came to the conclusion that moping around wasn't going to get anyone anywhere. I had to live the life Sirius couldn't, you know?"

Ginny smiled at him and nodded. Harry finished with the vague thought, "Besides, I got some help from a friend in getting over my grief…"

"What friend?" Ginny asked.

Ignoring her question completely, Harry steered the conversation back to running. "I would love for you to join me running, Ginny. I won't be very good conversation, considering I'll need all the oxygen I can take going to my lungs, but it should be fun."

Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, Ginny allowed the conversation to be steered back. "Alright…though I imagine I might slow you down."

"It's not so much about speed as it is endurance. I'll have other workouts for other things. The question I have is will you be able to wake up by six each morning? You never struck me as an early riser."

Ginny scowled. "I'll be fine! And I'm up now aren't I?"

Harry grinned. "That you are…and what are you doing up so early, might I ask?"

Still scowling, though no longer at Harry, Ginny responded, "My bloody room window faces east. Just fine in the winter when the sun doesn't come up until 9:30…but in the summer time I wake up at 6:30!"

"And there it is…" Harry said, recognizing why Ginny, who always seemed to enjoy her sleep, was awake.

"Prat," Ginny repeated, but with a smile.

-0-0-0-

"But Hermione, you've been with us for less than a month!"

Hermione moaned. "Mum…you know I love you, but there's a war going on!"

Hermione's mom rolled her eyes. "Hermione, don't get started on this again. I get that there is a bad wizard out there, I do. But you're a teenager! Even if this were a 'war,' like you say, you shouldn't be fighting in it!"

Hermione just shook her head angrily, trying to remind herself that her parents couldn't possibly understand what danger they were in. According to the _Prophet_, there had already been a Giant attack on a small town in Scotland. When Hermione researched the occurrence from the muggle point of view, she merely got a few articles which expressed confusion about why the earthquake didn't register on their Richter scales.

Between the Ministry's efforts to erase the memories of any muggles involved and the innate human desire to be ignorant of negative aspects of life, this war would never be fully recognized by the muggles. Even Hermione's own parents always tended to downplay the danger that Hermione told them about. They were convinced that You-Know-Who was just a bad guy that the police could catch and that Hermione's own experience in the Ministry of Magic was just a field trip gone wrong, despite what she tried to explain to them. Then again, for fear of her parents not wanting her to return to Hogwarts, she did leave out some of the nastier bits about her injury there.

Hermione realized after a few days of trying to stress the danger that they were now in, that her parents just couldn't understand the world in which she lived. It seemed fake, separate from their own. And while Hermione was immensely grateful for the support they had given her in allowing her to attend Hogwarts, she was now seeing how little she had in common with her parents.

She would always love them for their love and support. As she got older and moved on in her life, she would certainly visit them and they would be a part of her future family. However, they would never fully understand Hermione anymore, and that was a great barrier to overcome. Even now, as she tried to convince them to let her go to the Burrow, they could not grasp why she would want to leave them so soon when she already spent nine months out of the year at a faraway school.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Mum, it's not that I'm fighting in the war, but I need to know what's going on, how to stay safe. For all I know, You-Know-Who is planning an attack on our little suburb as we speak!"

"You can't even say this guy's name! That's how ridiculous this is…no, you are not leaving until the end of the summer!" Her mother turned and walked up the stairs, effectively ending the conversation.

Hermione fumed as she sat down on the couch in her front room. She glanced over at the television, but had no desire to turn it on. She listened to the dull hum the electric lights gave off, and sighed. She was living in a different world—where magic ran through wires and caused wars in foreign countries, which sounded as strange to wizards as their world sounded to Hermione's mother. This is not where she belonged.

But short of running away from home and causing irreparable damage to her relationship with her parents, she was stuck in the muggle world for now.

An owl suddenly pecked at the window, and Hermione smiled broadly, a piece of her own world breaking into the prison that held her. The owl was Errol, and it came bearing a letter from Ron. Hermione couldn't help the silly grin that appeared on her face as she saw the untidy scrawl.

She hastily unwrapped the letter and read, growing more confused and anxious to go to the Burrow than ever before.

_Hermione-_

_It's late, so I'll keep this short. Harry got here tonight…and he's happy! I mean, like, really happy. I don't get it, but he doesn't seem to be affected by Snuffle's death at all. Have you talked to him about it?_

_Anyway, I'm confused, but really glad to see him happy. Wish you were here to help me understand it. Will you be coming soon?_

_Ron_

Hermione read the letter through twice, her initial thoughts all about Harry's mood. When she couldn't come to any logical conclusion on the matter, she let her thoughts drift elsewhere in the letter. _Wish you were here_, Ron had written. The thought made Hermione blush.

Her voice of reason stopped the blush quickly. _Only so that he could ask you about Harry! _Hermione shook her head and told herself not to get any hopes up about Ron expressing any real emotion to her.

In a considerably worse mood than she had been a moment before, but a much better mood than her mother had left her in, Hermione grabbed a parchment and quill and wrote a letter back to Ron.

-0-0-0-

Albus Dumbledore waited patiently outside the Minister of Magic's door. He couldn't help the negative thoughts and emotions that passed through him during his wait. Not that it was the waiting that peeved Albus. It was that this man had managed to hold on to his job, despite his despicable tenure thus far.

Albus sighed and checked his watch. A small smile came to his face when he saw it was nearly lunchtime. Sirius and Harry had some fun planned for the Weasley children this afternoon. Albus wished he could see it, but had slightly more pressing matters on his mind.

He glanced up at the door that led to the man he planned to see. The nameplate read Cornelius O. Fudge, and shone brightly in the dim office light. It was well polished, with distinctive letters etched into the metal plate in fancy calligraphy. Much like his tenure thus far, the plate was superficial, claiming to be more important than it actually was. As if anyone needed to know whose office it was. The entire surrounding room was teeming with employees scrambling to do the work of the man in that office. And that man had gleamed like a nameplate for far too long, instead of standing up, and _doing_ something.

Albus had seen the writing on the wall within two weeks after Voldemort's attack on the Ministry. Minister Fudge was _somehow_ going to keep his job. No doubt, Voldemort wanted him there, a man who was easily swayed if properly schmoozed. He would do Voldemort well until a proper replacement was found.

Albus had learned his lesson from the previous year, however. Instead of fighting the Minister, he would win him over. So Albus immediately backed Fudge after seeing that displacing him was a long shot. He did so in the name of redemption, claiming that no man now had more purpose and motivation to fight back than Fudge did.

The Minister actually started to buy in to the notion that he was staying in office for that very reason. He had begun to listen to Albus—after all, if he had from the beginning, he could have been on top of the war, instead of scrambling to keep up. And now, he actually believed Albus had saved his job, increasing his trust in the him.

Albus hated politics, but realized he would have to play the game if he wanted to win.

The door opened, and a woman exited. She was a beautiful woman in her mid thirties, and Albus recognized her immediately.

"Ah, Sarah," he said kindly, standing from his chair to shake her hand. "So good to see you again."

"Professor!" she said, surprised. "Wow! It's been years!"

"That it has. I hope you've been well? Yours is one of the few columns from the _Prophet_ that I keep up on."

The woman blushed and looked intently at him. "If only I could believe you. But I've been great. I was just seeing the Minister about doing a piece on Sirius Black. You wouldn't by chance have anything to say on the matter?"

Cornelius appeared at the door before Albus could respond. "Oh, Albus, come in, come in."

Albus nodded at the man before responding quickly to Sarah. "It surprises me that _you_ would be writing that article, Sarah. I will say but this: he is innocent. And I'd hold off writing that article for a little while."

Sarah pointedly ignored Albus' first comment and curiously raised her eyebrow to the last one. "Hold off…do you know something I don't, Professor? About his will, perhaps?"

"I do know something you don't, Sarah. And please, call me Albus. It's been over fifteen years since you were in school." With that, he turned and followed the Minister into his office.

"I know what you're going to say, Albus," the portly man said as he took his seat behind his outrageously large desk. "And I promise you, I am _trying_ to get the Dementors out of Azkaban."

Albus sighed. "Sadly, Cornelius, I believe you. Voldemort's forces are strong in the Ministry, and they are making it very difficult."

Fudge huffed. The man may have been humbled _slightly_ by the experiences a few weeks earlier, but he was still not humble. "I assure you, Albus, the Ministry is not full of You-Know-Who's men. Take Lucius, for instance; he's in Azkaban as we speak."

"Which is why we must double our efforts to change the guard before Voldemort does!"

"I know, I know. I'm trying."

"And where are we on the werewolf housing bill?" Dumbledore pushed.

"I'm already on thin ice, here, Albus," Fudge said with his hands outstretched as if to hold Dumbledore away physically. His mammoth desk was doing a fine job at that. "If you want me to lose my job, _that's _the quickest way to do it."

Albus didn't say the words on his mind: getting Fudge out of office _would_ be nice. Then again, the man had a point. There was only so much he could do in his current state. If only he could get the Dementors out of Azkaban before they switched, that would bolster his image and voice in the Wizengamot again.

"And I heard you speaking to Sarah about Sirius' innocence," Fudge continued. "I really appreciate you telling her to wait on that article. One more failure about my office might send me packing."

Albus honestly hadn't said that for Fudge's benefit. He simply knew that Sirius was alive and well, now, and that any article declaring his posthumous innocence would be faulty in at least one of their claims. But, that didn't mean Albus couldn't reap the reward of Fudge's ignorance.

"I'm watching out for you, Minister. Now please, here's an update to this werewolf bill that you can at least read up on. Maybe we can find a suitable angle for you to present it…"

Fudge sighed, but reached across his desk, having to stand to get all the way to the paper that Albus slid to him. "Alright, Albus. Let's have a look."

-0-0-0-

Mrs. Weasley bustled her usual bustle around the kitchen, preparing a nice lunch for the family. Harry, whose request to help was declined, instead sat in the front room chatting amiably with Fred and George. They informed him in quiet tones of how his investment into the Weasley Wizard Wheezes had already paid off huge dividends. They had gotten a modest place in Diagon Alley, but were soon the buzz of the shopping district.

"As part owner, Harry, we'd love for you to come by soon and have a look-see."

George nodded his agreement. "We both think that you, being the son of a great Marauder yourself, might be able to help us with some of our drawing-room stage ideas."

Fred picked up where his twin left off. "For example, we've got a shoelace that likes to tie itself to other shoelaces."

"But what could we ever do with such a thing?" George asked, seemingly stumped.

Harry chuckled. "I'll see what I can come up with."

Soon, the Weasley matriarch called them into the dining area, where they joined Ron and Ginny at the table. The smell of roast pork and Yorkshire pudding invaded Harry's senses and his mouth began to water. Judging from Ron's dazed facial expression, he was suffering a similar fate from the food.

The family sat down and began eating, the food everything that the smell promised it would be. Harry kept a close eye on the back door, however. Mrs. Weasley disappeared to go to the bathroom, and Harry suspected this would be the moment. When he saw a shadow pass by the window, he wrapped his hand tightly around the wand in his pocket.

The back door burst open and a deathly pale Sirius bowled into the kitchen, arms raised and moaning like a zombie. His robes and the skin around his mouth were splotched with blood, and he had a jagged scar along his face.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

Harry's left ear drum nearly burst as Ron's incredibly girly scream pierced the air.

Several things all happened at once as Fred threw the table over on its side, effectively sheltering himself, Ron and Harry from the dead, but pinning George and Ginny against the kitchen, where Sirius was closing in. Meanwhile, Mrs. Weasley's voice of panic could be heard from the bathroom shouting to know what was happening. George, now covered in Yorkshire pudding, had his back against the table, his feet sliding on the floor as he tried unsuccessfully to back away from Sirius. He pulled his wand out and threw a stunning spell at Sirius.

No one heard Harry cast a shield spell over Ron's perpetual screams, and this only caused more freaking out when they realized spells merely ricocheted away from the zombie-like figure approaching them.

As Ginny scampered over the table to safety, Harry caught her looking at him. He tried to quickly hide the grin on his face, but he knew she saw him smiling. The panic seemed to leave her face (even though Fred and Ron were now throwing plates and utensils at Sirius), which was replaced slowly by a look of understanding. Her mouth dropped a fraction as she looked back at Sirius.

Mrs. Weasley burst into the kitchen at this point, looking quite disheveled, with her wand out. Sirius decided this would be a good time to stop the charade and dropped his hands and stopped moaning. With a quick wave of his wand, the color returned to his face, the blood disappeared from his robes, and a smile came to his face. Ron's screams slowly came to a halt, and Harry's ears rang in the silence that followed. Sirius was the first to break it.

"Leave any food for me?"


	5. Instinct

**A/N: Another big thanks to the reviewers of this story. I love the story follows and favorites, but it's through reviews that I improve and you contribute to the story—so please drop a line at the end of this chapter.**

**Three disclaimers: 1) I don't own any of this. 2) I was inspired for a little of this chapter by ****_The Bourne Identity_****, the book. 3) I am not British, and it becomes quite obvious here, if it wasn't already. I went back and forth, deciding whether to call a swimming suit a swim costume, or whatever it's called across the pond. I thought, ****_is it even that big of a deal? Do they also say swim suit? Will the Brits be more upset by me trying and failing than not trying at all? Do I have enough Americanisms throughout the rest of the chapter that my attempt to sound British will simply be ignorant, and quite laughable?_**

**Needless to say, I decided to just be a 'Murican and disregard other cultures. That's what we do, right? Please feel free throughout this chapter and story to mock me as I have Harry say things no self-respecting Brit would, only to then have him sound distinctly non-American as my reading of other fics have imprinted a slight British voice in my head when writing. I deserve the insults, I'm sure. **

**Enjoy!**

Harry Potter and the Lord of Immortality

Chapter 4: Instinct

* * *

"We need to test his instinct again."

"Another abduction?"

"No…I don't believe that will catch him off guard all that much."

"So, should we start using some of the different scenarios of the training room?"

"Yes. I believe it's time to see how Harry would hold up in non-aggressive situations."

-0-0-0-

Harry had never really thought birthdays were that big of a deal. That was likely due to the fact that the Dursleys had never given him more than a stick of gum on his "special day." So Harry was a bit shocked to see how everyone treated him on his birthday. Ginny kindly offered to skip working out that morning (which, in all fairness, she did most mornings), Mrs. Weasley made breakfast enough to feed all of Gryffindor house, Hermione finally got permission to come stay at the Burrow because of his birthday, and Sirius canceled training for the day.

It had been nearly a month since Harry had moved to the Burrow, and life couldn't get much better. This made him feel slightly guilty, considering all of the attacks by Death Eaters and Voldemort's army going on in the country. At each of the weekly Order Meetings, Harry was forced to listen as the Order described the war while being able to do nothing. The Order and the Ministry were stuck playing catch-up to Voldemort, and could never go on the offensive. It was apparent that Voldemort's plan was to attack the muggles first, likely to instill a fear in the wizarding community. Meanwhile, Dumbledore and Sirius both saw fit to keep Harry out of the war until he was better trained and a bit older.

This frustrated Harry, of course, but he also understood why he shouldn't be out battling Death Eaters once a week. He wasn't ready, even though his training was going wonderfully. His spell power, decision-making ability, and instinct were rising rapidly. He found that he could hold his own against Sirius in duels, though he figured Sirius was taking it easy on him. Harry knew that his own spell knowledge was very limited, and the only reason he could keep up with Sirius was because Sirius was dueling down to his level. This gave him a renewed vigor to take his studies more seriously in the future and even do some extracurricular studying. Hermione would be so proud.

As Harry's birthday wore on, he found himself very much looking forward to Hermione's arrival. He was sad he didn't get to see her reaction to Sirius' reappearance. After all, The Weasleys' reaction had been priceless. Ron was hoarse for two days after all the screaming he did. Lupin's reaction had been similar to how Harry supposed he had looked. Harry's eyes stung just thinking about the pure joy and relief on his old professor's face when he saw Sirius for the first time.

Hermione, on the other hand, was likely sitting in her room when she got Harry's letter. She probably didn't believe him until she got confirmation from Ron. And even then, it would have been a gradual acceptance rather than a shock to the system like everyone else had had.

That shock to the system included one Severus Snape. During Harry's first Order meeting, Snape already looked sour enough that Harry was sitting in. Add to that Dumbledore's announcement and Sirius' arrival, and Snape looked ready to pull out his greasy hair. Harry chuckled to himself at the memory, glad to anger Snape without receiving much repercussion.

Snape would not be present for Harry's small birthday party today, which Harry was very relieved about. He hadn't expected a party at all, but Mrs. Weasley insisted, shocked that he had never had one before in his life. So she planned a "small get-together," which Harry knew would include copious amounts of food, and a few more guests than he knew how to entertain. But, he looked forward to it nonetheless.

The day stretched into the afternoon, and Harry and Ron sat, playing a little chess. Harry was actually doing a decent job against Ron for the first time in his life, but he attributed that to Ron's drifting attention.

"Check," Harry said. Ron's gaze jumped from the window to the chess board in shock. Harry grinned. "A little preoccupied today, Ron? Whatever could be on your mind?"

Ron's eyes shifted uncomfortably as he mumbled some excuses. "Didn't eat a proper lunch. Preparing for the party tonight, you know…"

Harry's smile only grew as he considered his best friend. Ron Weasley appeared to be very conflicted about his feelings towards their mutual best friend, Hermione. Harry didn't ever bring it up, wanting Ron to do so when he felt comfortable. But it certainly provided Harry and Ginny with some fun conversation every time a letter from Hermione came and Ron's face lit up. His mood would drastically shift during that day, and Harry had seen him rereading certain letters more than a few times.

Ron made a move that Harry saw as a mistake. Then again, Harry was awful at chess, so Ron very well could have been planning a few steps ahead and would end up beating Harry anyway. They would never find out, however, as Ron suddenly stood and peered out the window again.

"Someone's coming!" he said excitedly before realizing his elevated emotion and calming down a bit. "Somebody is coming," he said softer, in a more normal voice while pointing to the window. Harry followed this direction and saw that, sure enough, _someone _was coming.

Harry and Ron both walked towards the front door. Ron went straight out and Harry called up the stairs to Ginny's room. "Hermione's here!"

Ginny's door opened soon after and she came trotting down the stairs. Harry smiled as she came down and with her eyes and expression silently asked how Ron was doing.

"He's outside, awkwardly awaiting her car," Harry said softly as he guided her, laughing, towards the door. Harry was pleasantly surprised with how close he and Ginny had gotten. Between their morning runs and hanging out in the evenings, he found that she was becoming a good friend. She was smart and very funny, and much more mature than he would have ever guessed. She made a great running partner because she was as determined as he was to be prepared for anything.

They walked outside and watched as a red Volkswagen made its way down the stretch of road leading to the Burrow. The car pulled to a stop and Hermione quickly got out of the car, waving excitedly. She rushed forward and hugged Ron tightly, who tentatively wrapped his own arms around her.

"Welcome back…er, here. Hi…" Ron said awkwardly, as Harry cringed at Ginny, who was failing to stifle her laughs by putting her head into Harry's shoulder. She got it under control by the time Hermione turned to the two of them and gave them each hugs.

"It's great to see you, Hermione," Harry said as he squeezed his good friend in a tight hug and Hermione wished him a happy birthday.

As Ginny echoed his sentiments, Harry saw Hermione's parents get out of the car, gazing up at the Burrow in awe. Knowing the struggles Hermione had had with her parents in getting permission to come to the Burrow, Harry decided to try to ease the situation.

He walked over to her parents and commented, "Amazing, isn't it?"

Mr. Granger nodded his head. "So, magic just keeps this home steady and safe?"

Harry nodded his head. "The first time I saw the home, I thought it was ready to tip over. But this home is one of the safest places in all of Britain right now with all of the magic protecting it."

Mrs. Granger looked suspiciously at Harry. "Does it really need those protections, though?"

Harry smiled sadly at her. Hermione wasn't kidding when she had written that they didn't understand the war. "I'm sure Hermione has told you the story of the man, Voldemort, who killed my parents when I was a baby?" With a sad nod from the Grangers, Harry continued. "Well he's back with a force and looking to hurt innocent people again.

"But since I came here from my Aunt and Uncle's home, I just feel so much better knowing what's going on. Because in your world, and my world a month ago, there's absolutely no news about Voldemort."

Mrs. Granger nodded enthusiastically. "Right! It just seems so ludicrous!"

"It does!" Harry agreed, knowing that this would be the best way to get to them. "If I hadn't have lived through some battles in this war, I wouldn't believe it was going on. Up until two months ago, our own Ministry didn't believe it. But that's just because this guy is conniving and does things behind the scenes before striking to do optimal damage."

The Grangers nodded, but he knew they still weren't convinced. And Harry found that he was perfectly fine with that. As long as they were safe, ignorance is bliss. "Anyway, I wanted to thank you for letting Hermione come for my birthday. It means a lot!" It didn't really mean all that much to Harry that it was on this particular day, as birthdays weren't that big of a deal to him, but the brightened looks on the Grangers' faces made him sure that his gratitude was much appreciated. He was certainly glad to see Hermione.

The Grangers met briefly with Mrs. Weasley to make sure that Hermione would not be imposing, and for her part, Mrs. Weasley tried not to be too offended at the question. "Of course not! Truth be told, a house of just two and three teenagers has been a bit eerie! We're very happy to have her."

The Grangers expressed gratitude, hugged Hermione goodbye and were on their way.

Harry noticed Ron just standing, fiddling with his hands. Harry pitied the poor soul. "Go offer to take her bags up to Ginny's room," Harry said to Ron.

Ron looked sharply at Harry. "What? Oh…um, yea. I guess you're right."

Ginny appeared at Harry's side and the two watched as Hermione smiled broadly at Ron when he took her bags. Then, Ron said something as he walked toward the stairs and Hermione glared at him. She then reached forward and grabbed the bags out of Ron's hands and marched up the stairs herself, leaving a stunned Ron at the bottom of the stairs.

"And so the dance begins," Ginny said dryly.

-0-0-0-

"Oh, I can't tell you how refreshing it is to be here, Ginny!"

Ginny sat down on her bed, excited to have her friend here. A little backup would be nice. Sometimes Harry and Ron were just so brick-headed. Well, mostly just Ron. Harry had been…energizing, surprising.

"Well, I'm very happy to have you here, Hermione. Was it terribly difficult to convince your parents to let you come?"

Hermione sighed. "Yes…the whole drive over here was so tense and awkward. Whatever Harry said to them seemed to help a little, though. They were sad to leave me, but I think they're starting to see why it is so hard for me to stay there for long periods of time."

Hermione got a glint in her eye as she looked mischievously over at Ginny. "Speaking of Harry…"

Ginny's eyes narrowed. She had known this would be coming. "Don't get started, Hermione! We are just friends. We've become _good_ friends, even. I don't see that changing and I'm not going to entertain the idea."

Hermione smiled at Ginny. "I don't know, Ginny. He seemed to be gravitating towards you every chance he got."

Ginny decided not to tell Hermione that was by design, so that she and Ron could have more time together. When Ginny didn't respond, Hermione continued. "Maybe he's finally coming around and falling for you."

Ginny shook her head. "That's not what's happening."

Hermione sighed. "If he were to ask you out today, would you not say yes?"

Ginny turned on Hermione. "First of all, I am in a happy relationship with Dean, so no. If I _was_ single, yes, Hermione, I would say yes. Absolutely I would. And you know I would so I don't know why you are asking. Of course I still feel for the boy, and he's getting more and more attractive by the day. Sure, since Sirius has come back, he's been happy, and funny, and…flirtatious, and smart, and dedicated. Yea, he's maturing nicely, and smells great—even after a long run, which I don't understand! It's infuriating. And fine, I'll admit it, he's everything a girl could ask for…" Ginny took a breath and sighed at herself. Hermione's smile had been growing with every word Ginny gushed.

"But for the last time, I am not going to sit around and get my hopes up just because we've become friends—and then have my heart break every day when he doesn't return those hopes."

"But…" Hermione tried to respond, but Ginny just held up her hand.

"Look, I get that you want me to be happy and the notion that he likes me is flattering. But if I start thinking that he does and nothing comes of it, it will kill me."

Hermione softened and she nodded. "Fine…I'll respect your wishes."

"Thank you," Ginny said, and moved onto the safer discussion of what she needed to do this year to prepare for OWLS. Hermione was very happy to provide some advice.

A short time later, everyone gathered for the "small" party that Ginny's mum had organized. The Weasley family, sans Charlie and Percy, were all present. Joining them were certain members of the Order and, to Ginny's dismay, Fleur Delacour who was now seriously dating her brother Bill. Rumor had it he was ring shopping.

After a grand dinner served outside in the warm summer evening, people gathered to give gifts to Harry, who seemed both shocked and embarrassed by the outpouring of love he received during the evening. This made Ginny curse his relatives anew for their lack of affection towards him. How anyone could dislike Harry was beyond Ginny. Well, aside from the obvious candidates of Voldemort, Death Eaters, and self-righteous purebloods.

Ginny laughed with everyone as Harry tentatively opened a gift from Fred and George. As it turned out, they gave him a new product that they hadn't begun to sell yet. They called it a silence grenade—and it was exactly what the name implied. The true magic of the grenade though, was that the one throwing it did not experience the silence that everyone else in the twenty foot radius blast did. They said they had yet to find an incantation to remove the charm, but that it wore off after a few minutes.

Harry opened several more predictable gifts, including books on dueling strategies and teaching skills from Moody and Hermione, respectively, Quidditch gloves from Ron, an ironic stealth cloak from Tonks, which silenced one's movements if worn, and a memory vault from Sirius.

Ginny tried to keep down a smile as Harry opened her gift for him. He unwrapped the packaging and pulled open the box to reveal a set of swim trunks. Immediately, he burst out laughing, much to the confusion of everyone present.

For weeks, Ginny had been trying to convince Harry to change their running routine to a swimming routine. She did this mostly out of fun, as it was a game for her to complain about the running—even though she quite enjoyed it. Harry, on the other hand, would not acquiesce to go swimming because he knew they wouldn't last more than a couple of minutes actually swimming for exercise before it would dissolve into lazily paddling around the pond and having a fun morning. When Ginny tried to defend herself, Harry simply came up with a second, unreasonable excuse which he used whenever she brought up swimming:

"I don't own a swimming suit, Ginny. Can't go swimming without a swimming suit."

Most of the other party participants were looking at Ginny's gift wondering why Harry found it so amusing. But Harry simply nodded his head at her with a smile and said, "Touché, Ginny."

This comment made Fleur even more confused, but the party went on regardless. Ginny was quite happy to see Harry so carefree and relaxed. At one point, she was sure Sirius snuck him a bottle of Firewhiskey, and she laughed as he took his first sip, complete with much coughing and sputtering. All in all, the party went well, with a grand conclusion by Fred and George's new fireworks line.

After everyone had helped clean up and the guests headed home, Ginny found herself sitting with her brother, Harry, and Hermione in the front room. They lounged on the couch and a couple of chairs, recounting the day's events.

"What a great birthday," Harry said to no one in particular. "Thanks, guys."

Ginny smiled sadly to herself, being reminded once again that this was likely the first time Harry had had a party for his birthday. But she was glad she could be a part of this one.

"I always thought that my best birthday would be the one where Hagrid came and told me I was a wizard…but being surrounding by all of you guys…" Harry let the thought hang in the air. While he had opened up much more since Sirius came back, he was still a bit hesitant about sharing his feelings. But with a glance at Ron and Hermione, Ginny knew that they had felt the same sincerity and care that Harry tried to emote with his lack of words.

"Well, I'm happy for you, Harry." Hermione patted Harry affectionately on the arm before leaning back in her chair. Ginny caught a strange look pass Ron's face as she did so. "So what was your gift from Ginny all about?"

Ginny sniggered as Harry smiled widely and responded. "Well, Ginny's been wanting to replace our morning runs with swimming…" Harry tried to find the words to explain the situation. Ginny felt her heart warm at the thought that she and Harry had an inside joke that even Ron and Hermione weren't a part of.

But Harry was spared the need to elaborate by Ron's outburst. "You guys have been running in the morning?"

Both Harry and Ginny looked at Ron, shocked. Ginny found her voice first. "For nearly a month, Ron. How did you not know that?"

Harry chuckled and wondered aloud, "Have you really never woken up and wondered where the two of us are?"

"You guys are always eating breakfast when I wake up, or you are off with Sirius," Ron defended himself, looking at Harry.

Ginny scoffed. "Maybe if you ever woke up before ten o'clock you would have noticed."

Harry, Hermione, and Ginny all laughed at Ron's expense, who glared at them in return. Ginny noticed Hermione give her a pointed look with raised eyebrows. Ginny simply rolled her eyes at her friend and wondered if she was going to have to put up with those looks for the rest of the summer.

-0-0-0-

"Her name is Julia Lavier," Dumbledore said.

"She is French?"

"Her father is, yes. She is the newest Death Eater, and has risen to the Inner Circle as fast as any I've seen." Dumbledore peered down at Harry expectantly.

"So what's the goal here?" Harry asked.

"You see, she is an unknown Death Eater, so she is still living her life normally, as if she isn't part of the war. She's the owner of the popular and expensive clothing shop in London. We aren't even positive she _is_ a Death Eater, and I don't want to take out an innocent person. I'd be no better than the Ministry."

Harry nodded, but still needed the mission's goal. "Again, what has to be done?"

"It's a 'two birds, one stone' situation," Dumbledore said. "We need information out of her office that we can't get into, and if we get this information, Professor Snape will no longer be questioned as traitor, because we will have obtained information in a different way."

"I see." Harry said. He peered over the pictures Dumbledore laid out in front of him. Her clothing shop, _Robes_.

"Actually, I just thought of a third bird," Dumbledore said, breaking Harry's focus.

"Same stone?" he asked, with a slight smile.

"Yes. When Voldemort realizes she has lost this information, we will have one less Death Eater in the world. He won't be happy with her."

"He would kill her?" Harry asked, though he knew the answer.

"He _is_ Lord Voldemort."

A few minutes later, after a bit more briefing, Harry felt the pull at his navel and the training room transformed before him.

Harry immediately cast a few glamour charms that he had learned over the summer. His hair was kempt and brown, his face void of scar and glasses, but complete with light facial hair, and his robes as fine as any in Britain as he walked three inches taller through the streets of London. He came to a stop outside of a shop that muggles could not see, a sign above naming it simply _Robes_. In the glass outside the shop, he quickly looked at himself. He was no longer Harry Potter.

_Just use your instinct_, he had been told.

Harry entered the shop, taking in everything while he waved his wand, changing him into wizarding clothes, robes, as was custom when entering a wizarding shop. The shop was not large, but it was in no way small. Robes were everywhere on display, some on mannequins, others floating magically in the air. There were four workers in the shop, each helping costumers. There were three doors along the back wall, and instantly—instinctively—Harry knew which door led to Julia Lavier's office.

Harry continued to look around and saw a sign. It read:

Luis Christians  
Exclusive Designer to _Robes_

The sign gave a brief summary of Luis Christians, his history, and a picture of the designer.

As Harry gazed around the shop, he reflected on his summer thus far. It had been over a month since he had gone to the Burrow. Between his physical workout schedule and his natural maturation, he had grown quite a bit in that span. While Harry had never been a vain person, he had to admit to looking into the mirror a little more often than usual to admire his hard work.

But his physical growth was the third most important growing he felt he had done this summer. Certainly above that was his emotional growth and magical ability. It turns out that when one's magical training consisted of dueling instead of essays, spell casting became easier and the spells' power grew much more rapidly. Harry would be the first to admit he didn't understand how the spells were created, the multiple ways one could alter the spell for different uses, or other theory behind them. However, Harry could cast them with more power and precision, and was developing a sense of _when_ to use certain spells in action.

It all boiled down to instinct, Dumbledore said. The theory would come as he continued his Hogwarts education. But right now, the spells being second nature to Harry was more important.

Yet, despite his improvement with spells, his training today would ideally consist of almost none. This was a stealth mission, and as Sirius had put it, "_There's a lot more finesse required in this one, so be alert."_

His training had vastly improved since his first encounter in the room Dumbledore had created, to say the least. That had been unexpected, and rather disastrous. Yes, Harry had to admit he was improving with regular lessons from his godfather, and less regular instruction from Dumbledore. Harry shook his head out of his reverie.

The woman had just come out of her office, and Harry instantly looked busy, examining the most expensive robes, looking at them in apparent interest, but never looking at the prices. He noticed that almost every one he examined was from designer Luis Christians. He studied Julia from afar. She was a pretty thirty-something woman, with blonde hair, wearing the finest robes her store had to offer.

The woman also looked around the store, examining every customer, until her eyes fell on Harry. She smiled and began walking toward him.

Harry acted surprised as she spoke from behind him. "Can I help you, sir? My name is Julia Lavier."

_Instinct._

Harry didn't know why, but he adopted an American accent. "No thank you, I'd just like to look for myself if that's alright."

The Death Eater walked away, smiling. Harry knew as he continued to look at the finer robes that her eyes were glued to him. So after several minutes, he turned around and motioned for her to come to him.

"Actually, I'm looking for robes for my girlfriend." Again, Harry didn't know why he said this, but he did know that he was no longer Harry Potter. He was an American now, who had a girlfriend who liked very expensive and fine robes. "And I thought while I was here on business I would get her some British robes."

Julia smiled, quite falsely, Harry noticed, as the smile did not touch her eyes. "Well, from what I've seen, you have great taste. What is your price—"

"There is no range. I've really liked these robes designed by Christians. He knows what he's doing."

Harry knew he was doing well as the pride showed obviously on Julia's face. "Yes, I signed him here myself. Right out of Hogwarts."

Harry continued for a moment, pointing out the robes he liked, as well as a shoulder bag. Then, improvising, he yawned. "Are you tired, sir?"

"Martin Johnson," Harry said, holding out his hand to shake hers. "And yes. With your ministry's recent added protection, I had to come here by way of muggle airplane. It was the worst experience of my life. How muggles live, I'll never know."

The saleswoman smirked and said, "Can I get you anything? Water?"

"Anything a bit stronger?"

"Come with me." She flicked her wand at the items that 'Martin' had chosen, including three sets of robes and a shoulder bag, which streamed ahead. They came to a rest on a table at the front of the store.

Harry couldn't believe it. He was being led into her office. He was a man running through an unfamiliar jungle, but knowing how to get out anyway. _We need information out of her office that we can't get into, _Dumbledore had said. Harry had gotten into the office on sheer instinct alone. He hadn't had a plan, aside from changing his appearance.

Julia stuck her hand on her office door, and the door seemed to notice her touch, and it opened. They stepped inside, and Harry again took everything in. He saw three places where the information Dumbledore was talking about could be: the bottom right desk drawer, the chest in the back corner, and on top of the shelving unit. How he knew this, he did not know.

_Instinct._

Julia began pouring a drink, and Harry reached down for his pocket. Before Harry knew what was happening, the drink she had been pouring crashed to the ground, and her wand was out, trained on Harry. Harry froze. "Easy, Ms. Lavier. I'm just reaching for my galleon bag to pay for this drink." He pulled out his bag out of the pocket he had been reaching for, while also revealing that his wand was on the other side of his body, in the other pocket. "I understand these are hard times in Britain. I'm sorry if I frightened you."

He knew at that moment he had gained the trust of the owner of _Robes_ whom he also knew, now, to be a Death Eater. She began to get flustered and spoke quickly. "I am so sorry, Mr. Johnson. You are right; I'm just jumpy in these…strange times. And don't worry about the drink." She waved her wand. The glass repaired itself and the drink flowed back into the glass. She held it out to him.

"It's no problem, and thanks for the drink."

For several minutes, they both drank and talked small talk. "So, your girlfriend must be a redhead. Every one of those robes is meant for a red haired girl."

Harry did not know this; he had just chosen them because they looked nice. "Oh, yes. Of course."

Harry finished his drink and Julia asked him if he wanted more.

"No, this was great. Thank you."

She stood. "Let me bring your things in." And she left her office, leaving Harry alone with the information on Death Eater activity. It was essential that Julia not know he intercepted the plans until after they had foiled the first attack; otherwise, Voldemort would just make new plans, and this mission would have little importance beyond getting him angry with his Death Eater.

Having counted the time roughly from the table to her office, Harry knew he had less than two minutes to search her office. He instantly summoned a ladder and climbed up to get a look above the shelves. On the top rested four pieces of parchment. Looking at each one semi-carefully, Harry ascertained that they were merely numbers for her quarterly sales.

Quickly vanishing the ladder, Harry moved behind her desk and went to open the bottom right drawer. It was locked. Whipping out his wand he cast _Alohamora_ and surprisingly, the drawer unhitched and he opened it. Quickly, he rifled through the files, before coming on something concrete. There was information on a Death Eater attack on a muggle town.

Harry quickly summoned a few pieces of parchment. He berated himself, knowing that summoned parchment wouldn't last longer than a couple of hours, given his weaker transfiguration skills, and that's if he had great focus during the summoning, which he didn't. Harry cast a copying spell on the plans, which made a perfect duplicate on the summoned parchment. Unfortunately, adding magic upon magic without proper care only weakened the two spells, so Harry knew the parchment wouldn't last more than a half hour. He would have to get out soon and make a proper copy.

It was then that he heard a hand on the door, and he knew he had but a few moments.

He sprung into action, doing several things at once. He shoved the parchment into his robes, leapt over the desk while shutting the drawer and casting a simple locking charm on it, and shoved his wand back in his pocket as he landed back in his chair. The door swung open a fraction of a second later and Julia walked in holding robes, a shoulder bag, and a piece of parchment which he realized was his receipt.

First, he took the shoulder bag and slung it around his shoulder. He took the receipt and pulled out his galleon bag. He hunched over the wallet and sifted through it. After a few seconds, he extracted the correct amount and paid her, but not before he subtly let the copied parchment slip from his robes and into the shoulder bag.

"Thank you for your wonderful service and the drink." He reached out to take the robes from her, but as he did so, Julia seemed to make the decision to make sure he didn't take anything. Harry didn't blame her—better safe than sorry. She pulled open his robes.

"Is there a problem?" Harry asked, angrily, motioning towards his robes, which had just been ripped open, revealing his muggle apparel underneath, but nothing else—no incriminating and stolen parchment.

She had gotten flustered again. "No, there's no problem. I just wanted to see if you wanted some other clothes, besides robes. You know, because you are going back into muggle London. I wanted to know if you wanted a change from those." She motioned towards his muggle attire underneath his robes.

Harry softened his expression but gave her an annoyed look. "No, I'm fine. Thank you again."

Harry exited the shop after changing out of his robes and exhaled a breath. Suddenly, muggle London changed, and he was standing in a room with Dumbledore and Sirius. Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling madly, and Sirius gazed at Harry with pride.

"How'd I do?"

Sirius gave a bark of laughter. "Bloody brilliant! Couldn't have done better myself. The way you sweetened her up by bad-talking muggles and complimenting her designer...a thing of beauty. Well done, Harry."

Dumbledore nodded his agreement. "Part of me wishes this had been a real mission—you performed almost perfectly."

Harry nodded. "Yea, I'd only have a few minutes to copy down that information from my transfigured parchment…I really need to work on my transfiguration."

Dumbledore smiled, clearly proud that Harry had known his only mistake. "If you approach the school year with as much dedication as you have your training, you will not have to worry about transfiguration. It will come."

Harry nodded. He thought back to Dumbledore's duel with Voldemort in the ministry and remembered just how much transfiguration the man used to fight with. It was the next level of dueling. Harry was just scratching the surface. He vowed to himself to be focused and apply himself to all of his classes this coming year. He would need all the help he could get to take down Voldemort.

-0-0-0-

Harry arrived at the Burrow after some more training and decided to stay outside for a while, and enjoy the cooling evening air. He liked to be outside and reflect on his training some days, and today's had been particularly unique. It was oddly exhausting, considering little magic and physical activity had occurred. He walked over to a tree, leaned up against it, and closed his eyes. He heard someone nearing him, and he cracked one eye open.

It was Ginny, and she had a smirk on her face. "Is Harry tired again?" she asked in a mock sorry tone.

Harry opened his mouth to retort with something clever, but nothing came. So he decided to go with a simple, "Yes."

She sat down next to him. "So, what'd you do today?"

It was a game they played. He didn't like talking about his training in detail, and she knew this, so she grudgingly settled for vague answers. But it didn't stop her from asking the question daily.

"This and that."

"Sounds intriguing," Ginny said, a smile on her lips.

"Doesn't it, though?" After a brief period of silence, Harry added, "How was your day?"

"You know, that is a good question." She then hit Harry on the arm, a little harder than he would've expected…or preferred.

"Hey!" Harry said, holding his arm pitifully, pretending to moan in pain. "What was that for?" he whined.

"_That_ was for leaving me with Ron and Hermione…again! You need to tell Dumbledore and Sirius to leave you here a couple days a week. Please, for my sanity! It's been one week since she got here, and I'm going spare. Those two won't stop going at it, and not in the way that would relieve all this tension!"

"So nothing's happened yet?" Harry asked, laughing a bit.

Ginny sighed. "Those two will dance around each other until they're Dumbledore's age. So to answer your question, no, nothing has happened yet."

Harry laughed harder, and then clutched his stomach. He was sore from his abs workout the day before, and it hurt to laugh. Ginny seemed to pick up on this and made it her personal mission to make him laugh as much as possible, telling him about Fred and George's latest invention, and their use of it in Ron's general direction.

"You're trouble, Weasley, you know that?" Harry said, holding his stomach painfully.

"You deserve it, training all day and leaving me here with them."

"Hey, I'd rather be here with you than killing myself dueling Sirius." Harry opened his eyes and looked sharply in Ginny's direction. Ginny was smirking, accomplished.

"I knew you would tell me eventually! Of course, I assumed it was something like that anyway."

Harry wasn't convinced. "Sure you did, Trouble." Harry thought the nickname fit her nicely.

Ginny raised her eyebrows at him. "Well what else would you be doing?"

Harry thought of the Training Room and Julia Lavier. "Nothing, I guess."

Ginny's smile faded at the lack of conviction in his voice. "Okay, you _have_ to tell me what else you do! I have to know, now!"

Harry couldn't believe it. How had she picked up on that? Was he that transparent? "What do you mean? I already told you."

"You told me one thing you did. I can tell when you're lying, Harry. It is so obvious you aren't telling me something."

"You're calling me a liar, now?" Harry asked, acting hurt and trying to divert the conversation.

And Harry knew that _Ginny_ knew he was trying to distract her. But she decided to respect Harry's decision not to be bugged about it, and played along. "So what if I am?" she asked with a slight smile.

And Harry's smile matched her own, a common reaction these days.


	6. Marathon Day

**A/N: Thanks to the great reviews! Sorry this update took a little longer. Vacations make it tough to post. This chapter will be one of the last to seriously detail Harry's training. The war will start to take a more prominent role and be the plot driving device after this chapter, with short allusions to his training. But as I started writing this story, I felt the need to give a glimpse into Harry's training, so it was understood how he is progressing in power and wisdom. Harry doesn't just become powerful overnight. It's a process, and a painful one at that. That said, no one wants to read 25 chapters of training. This chapter will be vital as you look back on the story over the next couple months and see where Harry learned the things that help him in the future. It also marks the beginning of a little Remus and Tonks, which has been VERY fun for me to write in the coming chapters.**

**Also, I would like to hear some feedback, both regarding my own story and thoughts on canon Harry. I love JK's Harry, but felt he was never powerful enough to defeat Voldemort. We are supposed to believe Voldemort is brilliant and evil, yet he still attacks Harry with a potentially inferior wand ****_after_**** not checking personally to ensure Harry is dead after the killing curse did not behave normally in the forest? **

**Anyway, enjoy the chapter, and give me your thoughts on canon and my story. Thanks!**

Harry Potter and the Lord of Immortality

Chapter 5: Marathon Day

* * *

"It is time for Harry to start branching out."

"We'll need to bring in a few different teachers. I don't want him just learning to duel like me."

"I agree, Sirius. No disrespect to your dueling ability, of course."

"No, he needs to be better than I ever could."

"And he will."

-0-0-0-

Harry grimaced, holding his left arm painfully. He was sure his shoulder had been dislocated. He made a mental note to learn a spell that would either fix the problem or at least numb the pain temporarily so he could continue to fight without the distraction. As it was, he would have to rely on adrenaline to keep him in the fight.

Harry dashed into an alleyway to give himself a moment to collect himself. He moved his arm gingerly, and knew it would be useless. He conjured cloth to quickly sling his arm—hoping to decrease any unnecessary pain by keeping it against his chest. He knew he didn't have much time, however. Soon, the Dumbledore-skilled Death Eater would be following him into the alleyway.

Harry had yet to beat the Death Eater in any scenario. A couple of times, he had gotten some good hits off. In fact, he had just broken the Death Eater's leg by bending a street lamp in the Hogsmeade battle scenario that he fought in. Unfortunately, by injuring the Death Eater, his skill level increased immediately and he got a powerful twisting hex through Harry's shield that pulled his arm out of its socket.

But, Harry was always emboldened whenever he got a hit off, and it encouraged him to think outside the box more. With that in mind, Harry glanced around the alley, hoping to find inspiration in his surroundings. He knew with only one arm, he would need to keep the Death Eater on the defensive as his mobility was limited.

_Well, my physical mobility is limited…not my magical mobility._

Then, seeing the window ledges, roofs, and dumpsters in the darkened alley, Harry got an idea. He reached into his pocket to pull out a silence grenade—one that Fred and George had given him for his birthday. Hiding behind a dumpster, Harry waited until he saw the shadow of the Death Eater, creeping into the alleyway. Then he pulled the pin and tossed the grenade into the alley, grabbing his wand once more now that his one hand was free again.

Harry leaned out from behind the dumpster in time to see the Death Eater put up a shield. It would do no good against a silence grenade, but Harry didn't fault his enemy the action. Harry would put up a shield if a grenade landed near him as well.

No bang ever sounded, however. Instead a wave of silence blew past Harry, and while Harry's hearing came back at once, he knew the Death Eater wasn't so lucky. The Death Eater was only temporarily deterred by this, however, and turned his attention on Harry, raising his wand to attack.

Harry turned on the spot, and disapparated with a _crack_ that the Death Eater wouldn't hear. In fact, the Death Eater didn't hear the second _crack_ when Harry appeared directly behind him, either. Harry launched a stunner that headed right for the Death Eater.

As soon as the Death Eater saw Harry disappear, however, he began turning around immediately to find him. He was able to get a shield up immediately. Before he could raise his wand to make another attack, however, Harry was gone again.

Harry appeared on a window balcony above the Death Eater and fired a few more spells, then turned and disappeared before a bludgeoning curse blasted the balcony to pieces.

Beginning to feel the drain of quick apparations, Harry fought through the fatigue and continued to launch spells. With every apparation, his spells were getting closer to hitting their mark. Meanwhile, the Death Eater was trying to go on the offensive and was shooting spells all around him as he turned wildly on the spot.

After nearly two minutes of this battle, with sweat pouring down his face from magical exertion, Harry found himself on the roof above the Death Eater. He tried a very weak, but nearly imperceptible stunner that took a lot of energy to cast. The moment the clear energy left his wand and rippled towards the Death Eater on the street below, Harry began to see spots in his vision and his legs grew weak.

Harry fell from the roof, unable to support himself longer and fell fifteen feet onto the very dumpster where he began the fight. He hit painfully on his back and rolled to the ground where his arm cried out in pain, now free of its sling. Harry moaned painfully, now sure he had injured his back in addition to his shoulder. His vision slowly started to clear, however, now that he was lying still for a moment. He glanced around the dumpster and a smile slowly crossed his features. The Death Eater lay motionless just twenty feet away from him.

_"_Accio wand," Harry managed, out of his very dry throat. Feeling his vision fade briefly yet again, Harry managed to keep hold of his consciousness as the Death Eater's wand clattered on the ground next to him. Harry gave himself a minute to rest before pulling himself to his feet weakly.

Body moaning with every movement, Harry slowly limped towards the unconscious Death Eater and held out his wand, shakily.

Ropes issued forth, binding the Death Eater. Unconscious and bound—Harry's first victory against the solo Death Eater simulation. Harry grinned to himself as the alley dissolved away, and he sat again in the basement of Grimmauld Place.

When Harry had entered the simulation, only Sirius had been present. Therefore, Harry suspected that he would have been the lone observer of his first victory. However, to Harry's surprise, Dumbledore, Remus, and Tonks had joined Sirius at some point during the fight to observe Harry in action.

Sirius began a slow clap, smiling broadly at his godson's performance. Remus was grinning widely, himself, shaking his head somewhat. Tonks had a very impressed smirk on her face as she appraised Harry. And finally, Dumbledore looked…sad?

"Alas, beaten after just a month of training…what am I to do now?"

And with that comment, he beamed at Harry, a twinkle in his eye. Harry knew he had not beaten Dumbledore. As had been explained to him on the first day, the Death Eater he fought had the knowledge and power of Dumbledore, but was unable to replicate his intuition. In addition, the Death Eater only used as much knowledge and power as would be necessary to fight Harry. Not Dumbledore's entire strength. It is likely that the wise Professor would have come up with a plan more quickly than the Death Eater had, and would have defeated Harry rather quickly. Nevertheless, Harry knew from his victory that he had fought in a way Dumbledore had never experienced before, and had caught his magical creation by surprise. This gave Harry much confidence and excitement about his future.

"Harry, that was…amazing," Moony managed. "I knew when you managed a Patronus at thirteen that you'd be a great wizard…but…"

Moony trailed off and Harry felt his face heat up. Not that it had been cool beforehand. Harry was panting, and sweat covered his face and body from the magical exertion. He was exhausted, but felt his energy returning by the minute.

Tonks, who was holding onto Moony's arm—likely from the intensity of the duel—nodded her agreement. "That was bloody fantastic, Harry. I've never seen a fight like that—apparation dueling. Genius. And with a dislocated shoulder to boot!"

Harry's flush did not go away at this praise. He did subconsciously move his arm, though—grateful again that physical injuries did not carry over from the simulation. "Well, thanks…I knew I couldn't move around with my feet all that easily, so I used the only other means of travel I had. Exhausting though…"

"Oh don't worry about that, Harry," Tonks reassured, finally letting go of Moony, who looked a little relieved, and then saddened, by the motion. "You learned to apparate, what, two weeks ago?"

Harry nodded. "Have you been working out as well?" the pretty woman asked him, with a raised eyebrow as she looked him up and down.

With all of his might, Harry fought down another blush. He was on to her—she liked to see him squirm. Well, he wouldn't give the satisfaction. He smirked. "Sure have…you like what you see?"

Tonks matched his smirk as Moony's jaw dropped in shock. Sirius gave a bark of laughter. Harry had seen his godfather in action a few times over the summer with a couple members of the Order, and was starting to get a hang of a little banter. "Sure do," Tonks responded, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. At this, Harry felt a small amount of heat enter his face, but didn't comment further. Instead, Tonks pushed on. "And just as you—and most gratefully, I—have noticed, with each workout your muscles have grown, your body more toned."

Remus cleared his throat. "And what does this have to do with anything?" he asked, a little more annoyed than Harry would've expected.

Tonks smiled at Moony as Harry let out a chuckle. He was flattered, and a little embarrassed. But like Moony, Harry wasn't sure what Tonks was leading up to either. "My _point_," Tonks said gleefully. "Is that young Harry here doesn't need to worry about how exhausting apparating is right now. Like a muscle, he needs to build it up, slowly and steadily."

Harry thought about it for a moment. At the beginning of the summer, his running had also exhausted him, and quickly. But after over a month of it, this morning he and Ginny could not only run for an hour at high speeds, but they could carry on a conversation while doing so. And, just as he had found his magical core to be growing with every day he spent learning with Sirius or Dumbledore, he could expect the same with his apparation ability.

"Indeed," Dumbledore said, his face pondering something. "I suggest that you make apparation dueling a common exercise in the coming weeks. It is a unique fighting style that will take enemies by surprise, and it would be wise for you to be able to perform it without falling off of buildings with fatigue."

Sirius nodded. "We'll add it to the list."

"List?" Harry asked.

"Sure, pup. After all, we've been blowing through our initial goals, it's time we set some new ones—which is why we've invited two more instructors. They'll be able to teach you things that I can't."

"So I'll learn loads, then?" Harry said with a grin.

Eyes narrowed, Sirius shook his head slowly. "Oh, you'll pay for that one…"

And pay, Harry did.

What followed was a very full, very grueling day. If Harry had thought Sirius had been hard on him before, this day—his first victory over the Death Eater—marked the beginning of hell for Harry. Already near his magical limit for the moment, Dumbledore took over the training.

Occlumency had been progressing nicely for Harry. Dumbledore was a phenomenal teacher, and while Harry usually ended each session with a light headache, he was always emboldened by his progress. His classes with Snape just seemed like a distant nightmare now, and Harry even thought he might be able to withstand his hated professor for all of his improvement.

Sirius, Remus, and Tonks left the training room and left Harry with Dumbledore. Harry felt a pull at his navel and the room changed before them and they sat in comfortable chairs, a desk between them. Other than this, there were no distinguishable qualities about the room they sat in, thus enabling Harry to easily block out distraction. He relaxed his mind as he heard Dumbledore whisper "_Legilimens._"

This was common practice, and Harry had gotten very accomplished about removing himself from his emotions and memories to focus on nothingness. Once that state of peace was achieved, he could begin forming defenses in his mind, and on a couple of occasions had mentally attacked Dumbledore's gentle prod—though his attack never came close to entering his Headmaster's mind, as he once had with Snape. Harry assumed this was because Dumbledore never attacked his mind with such reckless abandon that he left himself open to attack.

Once his defenses were in place, he was able to allow emotion and memories back into his mind without fear of them being seen. Harry felt the walls he had built under attack, and soon the room he was in had vanished completely, though his eyes were still open, and Harry saw nothing but his own mind. He reinforced the walls where the attack was centered, but kept a wary (and figurative) eye on his other defenses. Dumbledore had once misled him by launching a surprise attack elsewhere in his defenses while keeping Harry focused on one attack.

After some time, Dumbledore retreated, and Harry became aware of his surroundings once more. Dumbledore smiled proudly at Harry. "We are ready for the last phase of your occlumency training, Harry."

Harry's eyebrows lifted. "And what's that?"

Without a verbal response, the room began to shift before him. Harry was back at the Ministry, now, in the Department of Mysteries. Dumbledore was no longer sitting across from him, smiling, but instead, Lucius Malfoy grinned evilly, standing over Harry. In the distance, four Death Eaters stood with Harry's friends tied up at their feet. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and Neville looked at him with terrified eyes.

Harry felt a pit in his stomach as one of his worst fears and a nightmare he had once lay before him. Dumbledore must have seen the nightmare in the early stages of his training and was now using it against him.

_"Legilimens_!" Lucius shouted above him, and Harry felt a vicious attack on his mind. Hastily trying to enter a state of peace where he could build defenses, Harry tried to tune out his surroundings. But just as he began to let go of his fear and worry at being in this scenario, he heard Hermione cry out in pain.

This brought Harry back from his calming state and he looked desperately at his friends. Hermione writhed on the floor in pain and let out a blood-curdling scream, Bellatrix Lestrange standing over her triumphantly with her wand outstretched. Ron struggled in his bindings, thrashing on the floor, shouting through the rag stuffed in his mouth.

Immediately, Harry felt Lucius sifting through his memories. Images of a live Sirius burst forth, hours of training, Harry's new apparating strategy, all being revealed to Lucius.

Then an image of Harry sitting in front of Dumbledore as Dumbledore told him of the prophecy popped into his head.

_No!_ Harry shouted in his mind and everything went white. Exerting all of his will, he tuned out his best friends' pain and entered a state of emptiness. He managed to force out Lucius Malfoy and began building walls, hastily.

Then he heard Neville scream. Bellatrix was taunting him about his parents. An attack on one of his walls brought Harry back to his mind's defenses. Lucius had nearly broken through.

Luna was soon shouting, and it felt so odd to hear that noise come from Luna. No matter how aloof she seemed, pain yielded a universal reaction. Another attack, successfully knocking down a wall.

Harry reentered his mind and pushed Lucius out with all his might. With Lucius gone for a moment, Harry rebuilt his walls and began strengthening them. He vaguely heard Ron shout, but wouldn't concern himself with it. He knew Ron could take it. Ron would take it for him.

His walls were nearly strong enough for Harry to leave his mind and look to help his friends when Ron's screaming stopped and another started.

It was Ginny, and Harry didn't know why, but it caused him to leave his mind immediately. He emerged from his mind in a panic, looking over at Ginny. All having been tortured, Neville, Luna, Hermione, and Ron had no strength to try to escape. They lay on the ground, panting heavily and looking miserably at Ginny. But Harry couldn't take it anymore and let out a scream as his magic burst out of him, ripping his bindings to shreds. Harry leapt to his feet and swung a fist at Lucius, the fact that this was a simulation lost in Harry's pain.

But before Harry's punch landed, Lucius broke through the walls in his mind and Harry fell to the ground in pain. After having subdued Harry in his mind, Lucius went straight to the memory of Dumbledore telling Harry the prophecy. And just like that, it was over. The room dissolved and Harry lay panting on the ground of the training room.

After several moments, Harry pulled himself up in a sitting position and caught his breath. He glanced up at Dumbledore with trepidation, fearing to see the disappointment in Dumbledore's eyes. He had let Malfoy get all of the information Dumbledore had trusted him with.

But he did not find disappointment. If anything, he saw pride and sadness. "I am so sorry, Harry," the old man said at last.

Harry shook his head. "No…I am. I would've lost it all…"

Dumbledore let out a long sigh. "Frankly, I would've been disappointed in you had you succeeded."

Harry looked up sharply at his mentor. "What?"

"Harry, it is the love and care that you have for your friends that will ultimately be the cause of your victory. Had you been able to tune them out without any previous experience doing so, I would've been greatly worried. In time, and in a case like this, you will find that for ultimate success, you must ignore them for a time to defeat Lucius in a mental struggle. _Then_, you could launch a successful rescue attempt."

Harry held his legs to his chest. His breathing had slowed, and he looked at his feet. "I hope it never comes to that, sir." Harry didn't think he'd ever be able to witness what he just had in real life.

"And neither do I…but it is better to never have to do something you're prepared for than to fail because you were not prepared."

Harry nodded slowly. "Thanks, Professor."

Dumbledore was silent for a moment before responded very softly. "No, Harry. Thank _you_,"

-0-0-0-

"I don't know how he's doing it, Remus."

"He's an incredible kid, isn't he?" Remus responded, smiling softly at Tonks.

Tonks shook her head. "Incredible doesn't cover it." She raised her fist and opened a finger. "First he duels a Dumbledore Death Eater to near-exhaustion."

A second finger. "Then takes the _real_ Dumbledore on in a mind-duel. Then I go in there and start training him in proper battle techniques. The kid is rough around the edges, but _very_ talented, even when he's tired. Then he spends a couple hours with you learning spell technique."

"Which he is _very_ rough at, but very dedicated to improve in," Remus interrupted Tonks, who was holding up four fingers now.

"And," she continued, popping out her thumb to make the count five. "Now he's with Sirius doing their regular dueling practices."

Remus nodded. "Not to mention the hour-long workout with Miss Weasley this morning."

After Tonk's jaw dropped at this revelation, a smirk slowly replaced it. "Ah, young Ginevra, eh? I have a little competition for Harry's affection, do I?"

Remus felt his eyes narrow at Tonks. He didn't much appreciate the flirtatious display between Harry and her earlier. "Easy, Tonks. You don't want to lead the boy on. He is a teenager, after all."

With an evil glint in her eye, Tonks grinned at Remus. "A teenager who has grown up _very_ much in the last few months, _Moony_." Remus knew she was teasing him, but he couldn't help the swell of jealousy in his gut. Harry _was_ young. Remus was an older guy, compared to Tonks, and certainly compared to Harry. And Remus was also a werewolf, the greater of his concerns regarding a relationship with the wonderful woman in front of him.

"Maybe it's not me who's worried about a little competition, eh, Remus?"

Remus sighed at being called out on his envy. But his sigh was even more directed at Tonks bringing up _this_ conversation again. "Tonks…" he said warningly.

"I know, I know," she responded, rolling her eyes. "Don't worry, I'll convince you eventually.

"Besides," she continued. "We digress. My point is that Harry isn't human, I'm convinced."

Remus laughed, glad for the change of topic. "Ah, to have the energy of a teenager again…"

Tonks let out some laughter as well. "And to have his determination and work ethic. What happened to the depressed and moody boy I met last year?"

"He lost his only parental figure and then got him back again," Remus said, wisely. He spoke from experience. Sirius coming back from the dead had breathed new life into him as well. He had engaged in the Order with new enthusiasm and had made some progress on the werewolf front. He could honestly attribute this to the joy and hope that Sirius gave him.

They were interrupted from further conversation when Sirius pulled a very tired Harry alongside him into the kitchen. To Harry's credit, Sirius also looked quite winded, but after the day Harry had had, it was no surprise he looked ready to faint.

Remus went to the refrigerator and pulled out the sandwiches he had made for Harry. Harry slumped into a chair at the table and gave a weak smile to Remus when he set the food down in front of him. His face was pale and his hands shaking as he brought the food to his mouth.

As Remus watched Harry tear through the food he had prepared, and just about every other edible material in the room, he had to wonder if Harry had been bitten by a werewolf at some point. The boy was ravenous. That said, he was extremely drained, and food and sleep were the only real solutions to that problem. Remus couldn't blame the growing boy for eating Sirius out of house and home.

"Kreacher!" Sirius shouted after watching Harry eat for half an hour straight in amusement.

A grumbling elf appeared and glowered at his master. Kreacher had been commanded in no uncertain terms never to release any information regarding those entering the home unless he was told with very specific words to do so. Then, as his punishment for betraying Sirius, he had been commanded to tickle himself until he wet himself. Sirius watched with glee for nearly an hour until the poor house elf was done with his punishment. Then he was commanded to clean it up.

Remus didn't approve, but it was a better punishment than _most_ house elf owners would have given had they been killed by their elf's betrayal. At least, if the dead could punish an elf.

"You will go to Diagon Alley and replace these cupboards with the same food I asked for last month."

"Yes, Master," Kreacher responded grumpily.

"Will you do anything besides this? Answer Honestly."

Kreacher grumbled, defeated. "No, Master. And Kreacher will not be speaking with anyone except the workers in the shop."

"Excellent," Sirius said, and was about to send Kreacher on his way when Harry spoke up.

"Wait," Harry said. "I'll pick it up, Kreacher. Don't worry."

Three human and one house elf heads turned to Harry, who had lost his pale complexion and shaky body movements along with his hunger. "You're not going to Diagon Alley, Harry," Sirius said.

"Look, I feel bad. I ate most of this stuff, and Kreacher could use a rest. This place is looking much cleaner thanks to his work."

Remus didn't know house elves could look so surprised, but the emotion was displayed by Kreacher quite nicely.

Sirius had a similar reaction. "This place is looking clean? I think we worked you a little too hard, today, Harry."

Harry smiled. "I said _cleaner_, not clean. He still has a lot to do, but I think he's earned a break. Besides, I've wanted to visit Fred and George's shop for a while."

"We'll take him," Tonks said, and grabbed on to Remus' arm again. He loved her touch, but hated the feelings of fear and dread that filled him with it.

"Sure," Remus said, glad for an excuse to spend a little more time with Harry and Tonks. "It'll be nice for him to get out and stretch his legs a bit."

Sirius nodded. "Alright, but Molly'll have my head if she finds out. So make it snappy. It's late as it is."

And so it was that Tonks, Remus, and Harry made their way to Diagon Alley. Harry took them straight to Gringotts so he could pull out some money to pay for the groceries. As they approached the goblins seated in the bank, Remus saw them send a messenger to the back at the sight of Harry.

Sure enough, just as Harry asked to be taken to his vault, Griphook approached from the back offices.

"Mister Potter, Albus Dumbledore told us not to expect you…"

Harry looked confusedly back. "Expect me for what?"

"Why, for the will of Sirius Black, of course. He left everything to you—you just need to sign a contract…"

"No, we don—" Remus started but Harry cut him off, a slight grin on his face.

"Griphook, I have a hypothetical question for you. If a will were to be executed, and then the deceased found alive, what would happen?"

Griphook frowned. "Well, we would return all of the possessions, and any imperishable items purchased would go back to the living. But I imagine it would be hard out carry out that goal with exactness."

Remus shook his head knowingly. It would appear that Harry did not particularly enjoy the hell he'd been through that day.

"Where do I sign?"

-0-0-0-

"So, Tonks, what do you know about physical enhancements through magic?" Harry asked as he checked himself out in his new robes. His reflection was very flattering, and he thanked Sirius silently for the second birthday present. He had already been through a couple of other shops, purchasing a few new books and replacing Sirius' penknife that melted at the Department of Mysteries a few months earlier.

Tonks clicked her tongue while also looking Harry up and down. "Now, now, Harry. You don't need any enhancements _I_ can see."

Harry fought yet another blush. Her new flirty attitude was fun, but when she demanded to take him clothes shopping with Sirius' money, he had not been prepared for all of the double entendres and blatant sexual compliments that would follow.

"Nor that you _can't_ see," Harry responded confidently, much to the consternation of both Remus and Madam Malkin. Remus sat in the corner of the shop, arms folded—clearly upset at the turn of events in the evening. He looked very out of place in this shop with his shabby robes, and _refused_ to let Tonks buy him new robes with Sirius' money. Harry, having seen the figure that was in the Black vault, did not feel all that guilty about living a little.

Tonks walked around Harry approvingly, looking at him far more closely than he would have felt comfortable with just a day earlier. But now he felt very comfortable around her. "I'm sure you're right," she whispered in his ear, and Harry felt an involuntary shiver go down his spine at the female contact. "We'll take a set of these," Tonks said to Madam Malkin, who walked quickly into the back to collect the robes and escape the risqué conversation taking place in her shop.

"So if you're not looking for enhancements, why are you asking?"

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. "It's about what you were saying about magic growing like muscles," Harry said. "If muscles are to grow, I have to break them down and let them repair themselves.

"Today, I certainly broke down my magical reserve, and I expect the repairing process to strengthen me."

Tonks nodded. "Right you are."

"So," Harry continued. "It follows that the more magic I can use to break me down, the stronger I will get, right?"

"Yep."

"So I was thinking of funneling my magic, every other day, into physical energy. That way, I wouldn't have to sleep as much—I could devote more time to studying and training. And then I would be magically exhausted by the end of the day. The next day, I'd let my magic repair and start all over again."

He saw Tonks look over at Remus, who was now looking very interested, albeit nervous.

"I suppose that could work," Tonks said, slowly. "I've never heard of anyone trying that repeatedly…"

"We have no way of knowing how your body would respond to that much magic recouping any physical weaknesses," Remus said, warningly.

"So we experiment," Harry said, excited that they hadn't shot down his idea entirely. "We'll start out slow and see what happens. I'll even agree to daily checkups from you lot or Madam Pomfrey!"

Tonks let out a snort. "As much as I would love performing a daily physical on you, Harry, Pomfrey would never let something like this happen. She believes that magic is for healing, not for strengthening."

"But strengthening could help prevent the need to be healed!" Harry said adamantly.

Remus nodded. "You're right, Harry. It's just that there are so many examples of people—Voldemort, for example—using magic to darkly enhance their abilities. He has altered his body in such a disgusting way, but it is no doubt better suited for dueling and using his senses. What you are suggesting is not dark, but there is a negative precedent set."

Harry knew that Moony spoke from experience. As a werewolf, his own physical senses and strength had been increased—and most of the wizarding world would hold this against him. "Then we just try it out a little bit," Harry argued.

The two looked at each other and seemed to be having a conversation with their eyes. Harry smiled slightly at the emotional connection the two had developed over the past year. Finally, Tonks turned back to Harry. "If Dumbledore agrees, we'll help."

"Brilliant…" Harry responded, and Madam Malkin chose that moment to enter the front room again, anxious to have her customers pay and leave.

Pay and leave they did, and soon found themselves at Fred and George's shop. The shop was fantastic, and both Tonks and Remus got lost in the small store, enjoying every little evil creation the twins had come up with. The store was very busy, and Harry felt a little bad when he flagged down the two owners and asked for a moment of their time.

"The place looks incredible," Harry said, and pointed out several items that he would be purchasing before he left.

"Couldn't have done it without you, mate," Fred said, clapping Harry on the shoulder.

"Now, what do you want, Mr. Flatterpants?" George said with a grin.

Harry let out a chuckle. "Oh, George, you see right through me."

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out an item he stole from Grimmauld place before heading to Diagon Alley.

"No one is as good at picking apart magical items and using it to your advantage as you lot," Harry complimented. "Just look at the Marauder's Map. How you figured that out, I'll never know."

George made a 'hurry up' motion with his hands, telling Harry they didn't need to be told of their accomplishments.

"Right," Harry said, still grinning. "Well, this is a two-way mirror. I can speak with whoever is holding the other mirror, if I want—that is, if I hadn't broken the other mirror. Anyway, I want you to figure this out. How to communicate long distance—and then put it right in my ear so I don't have to hold it. Make it so that only I can hear what they are saying, and I can talk right back through it."

Fred nodded. "A challenge, Brother."

"Indeed," George said. "I like challenges."

Harry smiled gratefully. "I understand this will take away from the business a little bit, so I'll pay you for it." He didn't think it necessary to tell them he had just come into a lot of money.

"Nonsense," Fred said, waving his hand.

"We've a feeling this is for the Order," George continued.

"And while our mother doesn't want us joining…"

"Making this could be our 'in.'"

Harry nodded. "Great…just, whenever you can, that'd be great." Harry turned to leave.

"And Harry?"

Harry turned back. "Yes?"

George spoke up. "You know that we'd do this for you even if it didn't benefit us at all, right?"

Harry felt happiness swell in his chest. "Thanks," he replied earnestly.

The unlikely trio left the shop with a couple of bags, and Sirius' vault just a little less full a short time later. They hurriedly bought the food that was their original target in Diagon Alley. They walked back to the Leaky Cauldron to take the floo home, where Tonks and Remus offered to take the food back so that Harry could go straight back to the Burrow.

"You've had a long day," Remus commented, noting the sun's position in the west. Harry couldn't agree more. He had never been so exhausted in his life. He nodded gratefully.

"Thanks, both of you."

"Oh I _very_ much enjoyed my day, Harry," Tonks said suggestively. She winked at him.

Harry smiled in what he hoped was a seductive manner, but decided he would have to check in the mirror later what facial expression he actually managed to give her. "Oh, I look forward to our alone time in the future, Tonks. Today's was…very revealing."

Tonks leaned in and whispered softly in his ear. "Not nearly as revealing as our next will be."

Again, an involuntary shiver was sent down Harry's spine as he held in his laughter and his hormones. Luckily, he was saved from having to respond by an irritated Remus.

"Okay, you two. Calm down…it's like I'm back at Hogwarts the way you're acting…"

Harry frowned and became adamant. "Hey, it's her fault—I _do _still go to Hogwarts!"

They said their goodbyes over Tonks' laughter and Harry took the floo to the Burrow. He emerged from the fireplace and headed straight for the stairs. He had a smile on his face, but every bone, muscle, and organ in his body felt battered. He couldn't wait to crawl into bed and fall asleep. But as he reached the steps, he halted. He heard a distant melody, unfamiliar to him. Craning his head to find the source of the sound, his eyes found the back porch.

Dropping his shopping bags on the ground, Harry turned from the stairs, anxious to find the source of the beautiful music. He neared the door to the back porch, and the music grew louder still. It was a string instrument, but it sounded almost like a quartet was playing with harmonious chords shifting together seamlessly.

Harry reached the door and opened it slowly, trying not to make a sound for fear of startling the musician or simply drowning out any of the melody now filling his mind. As he stepped outside, silently, he peered torward where Ginny sat on a bench. The sun was now setting, the sky rich shades of orange and red. The dimming light lit Ginny's red hair and illuminated several beautiful shades that Harry had never noticed before. It was captivating. But soon his attention was drawn to the instrument she held in her hands. It was not unlike a violin, but Ginny used her wand instead of a bow. And instead of a solitary note coming from each string she played, a series of notes that flowed together would sound.

Harry leaned against the wall of the Burrow, and shut his eyes. They were very heavy, after all. He let all of his thoughts and feelings on the day wash away as the music filled him. To Harry's surprise, a scene unfolded behind his closed eyelids—almost like watching the telly at the Dursley's. Harry was soaring over a forest, though he couldn't tell if he was on a broom, or just floating along.

A light wind rustled the trees below him, the forest collectively swaying to the hauntingly gorgeous tune all around it. Harry let out a contented sigh.

The music stopped abruptly, and the vision of the forest disappeared. Instead, Harry was left feeling empty, staring at the boring and empty darkness of his eyelids.

He slowly opened his eyes to find Ginny staring at him in horror. Her face was as red as he had seen it since she was eleven years old. He smiled warmly at her. "Why'd you stop? That was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard."

He hadn't thought it possible for her to grow redder, but she did. "I didn't think you were coming back tonight…you stayed so late."

Harry slowly walked towards her, his body's pains reminding him of the day's activities. "Yea…it was a pretty rough day, honestly. And that music was so soothing. Will you play again?"

Ginny shook her head. "No…I don't like to play in front of people."

Harry felt his mouth drop. "But, it was fantastic…what instrument is it?"

Clearing her throat, and clearly trying to get over her embarrassment, Ginny replied. "It's called the oculin…and if played right, it's supposed to display images as well as music."

"_That's_ what I saw!" Harry said excitedly. He thought the image fit the music too nicely to just be his imagination.

"You…you saw something?" Ginny looked shocked.

"Yea! I was flying over a forest, and it was swaying…oh I can't describe it! But it was amazing. Ginny, you have to play some more."

She looked slightly surer of herself, but was still unwilling to play. Harry would get her to play if it was the last thing he did.

"What was that song called?"

"It's…umm Requiem of the Pines, I think."

"Do you see things when you play?"

Ginny nodded slowly. "Only when I play outside—which I almost never do. My room is soundproof to the instrument to keep others from hearing."

"Which is a sin!" Harry said sharply. "I can't believe you've kept this talent hidden from me for so long!"

"I don't know why, but I've never liked playing in front of people. Only for special occasions—and only for my family!"

"My birthday wasn't a special enough occasion for you?" Harry asking, feigning hurt.

"Clearly not!" Ginny laughed. "Besides, there were too many people there that night."

"Well, I only see the two of us right now," Harry said, only now realizing that he had no idea where the others were.

Ginny seemed to read his thoughts. "Yea, Dad's still at the Ministry and Mum took Ron and Hermione into town to do some shopping. I think she saw that I needed a break from them." She glared at Harry accusingly. He smiled apologetically. He knew he was always her break from them, and he had gotten home several hours later today than he usually did. In fact, the sun was very nearly down, now.

Harry looked away from the setting sun and found Ginny's eyes. She soon looked back into his own, tired eyes. "Well, Ginny," he said softly. "I'm very sorry I left you tonight. But I would very much like to hear you play again. Just for me?"

Something flashed across her eyes before she looked away and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She took a deep breath before lifting her oculin up to her chin and raising her wand to the strings.

"Okay, Harry. But I'm sorry if it doesn't soun—"

"Ginny," Harry interrupted. "You're wonderful."

She smiled softly and set her wand to the strings. The music began soft, and Harry let his eyes drift closed again. The tune was warm, inviting. It slowly grew and Harry felt himself swaying slightly with the melody. And then displayed before him was a beach, waves crashing as the melody ebbed and flowed. Harry felt his face break into a smile and he whispered softly, "That's amazing…"

Minutes, hours, Harry wasn't sure how much time he sat on the bench next to Ginny. After a time, he heard her humming along in a voice he had never known to be so pretty. He felt touched that she had opened up her secret to him like this.

Unlike her sudden stop before, this melody came to a slow and satisfying finish. After the music finished, Harry sat silent for several moments.

He slowly opened his eyes to find Ginny looking anxiously at him. When did her eyes become so deep and full of emotion? He slowly found his voice before proclaiming, "That is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. Thank you."

Ginny blushed once more, but not out of embarrassment this time. "Thanks, Harry. Now get to bed, you look about ready to fall over."

Harry was about to protest with a wave of his hand, but his arms _did_ feel a little bit like lead at the moment. "Okay," he conceded. "But only if you promise to play for me again sometime."

Ginny smiled a brilliant smile. "Deal."

And Harry trudged up the stairs and onto his bed, Ginny's tune playing repeatedly in his mind.


	7. A Birthday Surprise

**A/N: Thanks to the great reviewers! I like to respond to reviews and open up discussion with reviewers, so if you have an account, please use it. There were a couple of reviews I would have loved to respond to, but was unable. Most notably, I was surprised by some of the animosity towards Tonks' flirting with Harry. I assure you, it was very harmless, and will prove to be a good thing for Harry as he grows into a more confident man. Not to mention, he will feel more comfortable upping the ante in his banter with Ginny…**

Harry Potter and the Lord of Immortality.

Chapter 6: A Birthday Surprise

* * *

"I believe now is the time."

"My Lord?"

"Get me a Portkey to Azkaban."

"But my Lord, the Ministry tracks all Portkey activity."

"And that is why you work at the Ministry, Rodgers. Erase the record of it or steal a Portkey from an official, I don't care. But I want to be in Azkaban by tomorrow."

-0-0-0-

"Good morning, Ginny! And Happy Birthday!"

Ginny glared at Harry as she shut her bedroom door behind her. "How can you be so chipper this early?"

Harry grinned. "Getting to spend the morning with you? How could I not be happy? And what does that say about me?"

"It says that you are not worth the morning wake-up call," Ginny said flatly.

Harry made a clicking noise with his tongue. "And here I was going to give you your first couple presents of the day…"

Ginny suddenly looked excited. "What presents?"

Harry paused, acting like he was considering not giving it to her. When her glare returned, Harry laughed and opened her door again. He stepped inside her room, which she lightly protested. "Harry, what are you…" But Ginny went silent, not wanting to wake Hermione.

Harry tried not to look around her room too much, wanting to respect her privacy as much as he could while walking uninvited through her room. It was a small and simple room, but distinctly Ginny. It wasn't messy, but certainly not clean. She had pictures of her family in the most important places, but a couple of small posters of the Harpies quidditch team as well. Hermione slumbered deeply on a cot similar to the one Harry had in Ron's room. He pulled out his wand and waved it at the window, through which streamed the bright, morning sun. A thick and large curtain immediately appeared and the room grew dark. Harry turned around to find Ginny just inches away from him.

It was a strange sensation, being this close to Ginny in a darkened room. He could feel her body heat and just make out her distinguishing features. His heart suddenly beat a little faster. He lowered his voice and spoke just above a whisper. "Birthday gift number one: you get some more sleep this morning. Number two: when you wake up, get your swimming suit."

He could just make out her lips turning upwards in a smile as she whispered back, "We're finally going swimming for our workout?"

"I wanted it to warm up a little before we get in a cold pond," Harry said, nodding. "I'll be downstairs when you wake up. Happy Birthday, Gin." He led her over to her bed and pulled back the covers, wanting to ensure she got some extra sleep. He then made his way to the door and shut it tightly behind him.

After another two hours, which Harry spent reading an Auror dueling techniques book that Tonks had given him to prep for her lessons, Ginny came down the stairs. She was clearly wearing her swimming suit underneath a light shirt and shorts. Harry smiled at her as he set his book down on the table.

"Feeling extra rested for our extra intense workout?" Harry asked.

Ginny chuckled. She had been trying to convince Harry that she could swim so intensely that it was a much better workout than running. Now, she was finally getting her chance to prove it.

"I forgot how incredible it is to sleep in! Did you go back to bed, too?"

"Nah," Harry said. "I can never go back to sleep once I'm up." The truth was that Harry hadn't gone to sleep at all. Dumbledore had approved of the experiment that Harry had suggested to Tonks and Remus a few days earlier. The spell was complicated, and Dumbledore had been present the first time to make sure Harry cast it correctly. Today was the second day that Harry funneled some of his magical energy into physical energy. It was an odd feeling, as he cast the spell for nearly ten minutes, to literally feel his physical fatigue disappear as he simultaneously felt his magical energy fading. But Harry was excited to see if there were noticeable affects both physically and magically going forward.

Ginny led Harry outside and they began the short walk to the pond. It wasn't a big body of water, by any means, but it was sufficient for a nice swim. Harry was actually very surprised that he had not gone earlier in the summer. But then he remembered he was gone with Sirius or Dumbledore for the majority of the daytime.

"I can't believe you could've given me curtains this whole summer, and made me suffer the annoying six o'clock wakeup call of the sun anyway," Ginny conversed as the pond came into view in the distance.

"And take away the one thing that makes my mornings bearable?" Harry asked with a smile. He knew Ginny enjoyed the morning routine as much as he did, but she liked to complain about it in jest. "I'm far too selfish for that."

Before long, they arrived at the pond, and Harry pulled off his shirt. He walked forward and tested the water. Just as he feared, it was quite cold. He turned around to complain to Ginny, but he immediately forgot what he was going to say the moment he saw her. She was in the process of pulling off her own shirt to strip down to her swimming suit, and Harry felt some heat rise within him.

If Harry had been surprised how much she had grown up earlier in the summer, now that there was only a very thin layer of clothing covering just select areas of her, Harry was in shock. The covering left almost nothing to the imagination, which ironically got Harry's imagination going immediately. She was beautiful, and Harry felt his hormones getting the best of him.

"What?" Ginny said, bringing him out of his fog. He realized at that moment that he must have been staring at her quite creepily. She looked a little confused and he saw a faint blush sneaking up her face.

Throughout the summer, Harry had grown very comfortable with Ginny. They saw each other at their worst—sweaty, red-faced, out of breath, and in Harry's case stinky. As a result, Harry found he could do or say most anything around Ginny that he would with Ron or Hermione. When coupled with spending hours with a very honest and blunt Sirius and a flirtatious Tonks, Harry found that he didn't have much of a filter anymore.

"Sorry for ogling," Harry said, chuckling a bit to ease the situation. "Just realizing you aren't anybody's _little_ sister anymore. The teenage boy in me…you understand."

The faint blush in Ginny's cheeks turned into a full-blown flush. She tried to shake her head and laugh at what Harry had said, but he sensed she was feeling uncomfortable, or some other emotion akin to it. She wouldn't meet his eyes. He tried to play it off and act like nothing was the matter.

"Come on, let's get swimming." Harry now had only positive things to say about the water being cold. He turned and dove into the water, his breath momentarily leaving him as he was encompassed by the cool liquid. It felt good after he began swimming and pumping his arms quickly. After a lap, he checked to make sure Ginny had gotten in and wasn't still thinking about what he had said.

What _had_ he said, exactly? That he was staring at her body and was turned on by it? It was strange to think of Ginny like that, after so many years of her just being Ron's little sister. But he had to admit—now that the notion had so unexpectedly and forcefully entered his mind—that Ginny was a beautiful girl.

Unfortunately, this train of thought coincided with Harry's search for Ginny in the water. And while he was thinking these things, his eyes roamed her body as she stroked through the water. Harry quietly cursed at himself for being such a creeper and thanked Merlin that she had her head in the water while swimming and didn't catch him eying her a second time.

Harry decided he needed to get back to swimming, and put his head down immediately and started another lap.

It didn't take long for Harry to come up with another reason he preferred running to swimming. The mornings had been a nice time to chat with Ginny as they jogged. He learned all about her upbringing, found out some dirt on Ron (to add to the already large pile he had), and even gossiped a little, which Harry found to be quite the guilty pleasure. After just ten minutes of swimming, Harry was quite tired, and quite bored, missing that conversation and companionship. Even though she was in the pond with him, they might as well have been in two different pools.

Wanting to change this, Harry dove deep into the water and swam in Ginny's path. When she passed over him, he reached up and grabbed one of her ankles—hoping to scare her.

Instead, he got her other foot right to the jaw as she reacted quickly to get away from whatever creature had grabbed her.

Harry came up out of the water, half laughing, and half moaning. Ginny's initial look of fear was replaced by relief, and then a smug look crossed her face. She was breathing heavily and Harry was reminded that she was a very pretty girl, even when—or perhaps especially when—soaking wet. A frightening thought then crossed his mind that he might never be able to look at Ginny without commenting to himself on her beauty.

"Serves you right," Ginny said. "Grabbing my leg like that!"

Harry chuckled and moved his jaw to make sure nothing was permanently injured. "I'm fine, by the way. Thank you for your concern."

"You are getting the exact amount of concern you deserve."

Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "Well, then, I think you deserve a little something as well." Harry lunged forward, grabbing a squealing Ginny, and dragging her down into the water. For a few exhausting minutes they wrestled in the water, each trying to force the other down. Ginny knew a couple of impressive moves to get him under water. Combined with the fact that he had to watch very closely where he put his hands, and he was nearly evenly matched.

Soon, they were both panting and crawled back onto dry land.

"And…you said…we wouldn't…get a proper workout," Ginny managed between huge gasps of air.

"I didn't count on you being such a scrappy fighter…" Harry responded, equally spent. He reached his wand and summoned two towels. The two teenagers dried off quickly while Ginny explained that one learns a few things about fighting people bigger than you when growing up the youngest of seven. They set the towels down and lay down in the sun, feeling its warm rays heat their cooled bodies. "I think I'd have beaten Ron easier than you."

"Yes, well my dear brother would be daydreaming about Hermione so much that a six year-old girl could wrestle him underwater." They spread out their towels onto the grassy edge of the pond and lay on their backs.

"Strange, isn't it? To have his head so far in the clouds and not even know it?"

Ginny laughed. "I'm sure he's caught on by now. What about you?"

"Oh, I've known for ages. A couple years, maybe."

Ginny laughed again, this time at Harry. "No…not about Ron. Is there anybody you fancy?"

Harry gave a short laugh before responding. "Not currently. My last attempt was a bit of a fiasco…and I just haven't cared much lately. You know, there are bigger things in my life to worry about than whether or not a girl likes me and what my feelings are for her."

Ginny frowned. "You can't mean you just intend not to be with anyone until the war is over? That's a pretty sad thought…what if it lasts years, like last time?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I just mean I'm not concerned with it. If something happens, then great…but I'm not going to spend a lot of time worrying about it." Harry paused for a moment before asking Ginny, "What about you?"

Ginny looked a little embarrassed briefly before responding. "Yea, I've been dating Dean since the last month of last term… "

Confusion and surprise filled Harry before a vague memory of the last train ride home from Hogwarts came back to him. In this memory, Harry recalled Ginny telling Ron that she had begun dating Dean. He didn't think much of it then, and not much since then obviously. However, now that he had developed a much stronger friendship with Ginny, he felt horrible for not knowing this detail of her life. "Oh, Merlin…I am so sorry Gin, I completely forgot. Of course you are with Dean. I feel like an arse right now."

Ginny shrugged it off. "It's no problem, it's not as though we've talked about it."

Harry leaned up on his elbow from on his towel to get a better view of Ginny as he questioned her. "Yea…and why hasn't this come up before? We've talked about a _lot_ of things, and—granted I don't have much experience in this matter—this seems like one that should come up often."

Ginny wouldn't meet Harry's eyes as she responded. "I guess it just hasn't…" When Harry raised his eyebrows, Ginny continued carefully. "It's not like it's very serious. I haven't even seen him in two months, after all. We write back and forth a couple times a week. Though…it's been nearly two weeks since he's written," Ginny added, almost as an afterthought.

Harry was about to interrogate Ginny further when he was interrupted by a voice from behind him.

"So this is what you guys do on your 'morning runs' every day. Laying out and getting some sun. I should have known…"

Harry grinned up as his best friend approached with Hermione in tow. He had left a note asking Ron to join them as soon as he and Hermione were awake. "Now you know our dirty secret," Harry said jokingly. "I told Ginny swimming would just turn into fun instead of a workout."

Ginny glowered at him. "I seem to recall it was _you_ who put a quick end to our workouts."

"I never said it would be your fault, now did I?"

Ginny opened her mouth to retaliate, but had nothing to refute with, so she shut it quickly.

Ron and Hermione chuckled as they laid out their towels to join Harry and Ginny on the grass. They wished Ginny a happy birthday, chatted amiably about the morning, and Harry found it very difficult to steer the conversation back to Dean. He was also confused as to why he cared so much. Perhaps it was the gossip in him, or a desire to know she was being treated well. Whatever the case, Harry shook his head and decided it wasn't his business and if Ginny didn't want to discuss it, then he wouldn't make her.

As their conversation turned to their pending trip to Diagon Alley later that day, Ron and Hermione shed their outer clothing to enjoy the sun and water better. Harry noted Ron sneaking glances at Hermione, and it made him cringe at letting his hormones get the better of him earlier. He had to laugh though, looking at Ron as he seemed to have an internal struggle of wanting to check his friend out while not wanting to be gross about it.

Harry decided to help his best mate out a little, so he stood up, and picked up a very surprised Hermione. She starting screaming when she realized where Harry was taking her, but Harry threw her into the pond before she could fight back.

He turned back to Ron who had a very strange expression on his face. Anger.

Shrugging it off, Harry got a grin on his face and grabbed Ron's arm. Again, the surprise gave Harry the edge he needed, as it took all of his strength to hoist Ron to his feet and shove him in after Hermione.

Harry laughed loudly when Hermione screamed a second time—this time because Ron was falling down on top of her. They emerged from under the water coughing, sputtering, and cursing Harry's name. Harry simply laughed in response.

His laugh was short-lived, however, because of a forceful push from behind that sent him hurtling forward. Luckily, his Seeker reflexes kicked in, and he contorted his body to grab the arm of Ginny and drag her in with him. They landed in the water and Harry pulled her close to him to keep her under the water with him. She struggled against him, trying to get free, as Harry simply laughed, bubbles escaping his mouth and floating to the surface. Harry opened his eyes, ignoring the irritation from the water, to find her looking right back at him. His laughter stopped as they caught each other's blurry gaze. It was an odd feeling, holding her close to him underwater. He felt the curves of her body very intimately against his own. Her hair floated angelically behind her and her face had grown serious, just inches from his own. Harry decided he liked the odd feeling very, very much.

But unfortunately, the need to breathe was a more urgent feeling, and he pushed them up to the surface, where they took deep breaths, and he released Ginny reluctantly. Ron and Hermione cheered her on for pushing Harry in while Harry swam for his life to avoid the fury of his friends. He couldn't help but notice Ginny hanging back a bit, though, seemingly lost in thought.

0-0-0-

Harry strode purposefully down Diagon Alley. He was having a great day with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. They got their books together, ate some lunch, and visited Fred and George's new shop. The twins had updated him on their progress with the mirrors, but after just a few days, didn't have much to report on. All in all, it had just been a very good day. Harry made a mental note to thank Sirius for taking the day off, later. But it was also Ginny's birthday—and because of this, Harry made an excuse to leave his group of friends and made his way quickly to the broom store.

He had done his research, of course. He read through several magazines and ads to find out what broom would best fit Ginny's skill set and needs. At the same time, he knew he could not get her a very new broom—she would be very hesitant to accept a costly broom. It would be tough enough to get her to accept any gift that cost more than a few galleons.

When he arrived, he strode quickly over to the Nimbus line. Harry never knew that the Nimbus brand was actually aimed at Chasers—he had always assumed it was perfect for a Seeker because he loved his first broom so much. But careful study had shown that the Nimbus line was second only to the Firebolt, which was still leagues ahead of everyone else, despite it being three years old.

The Numbus 2002 was brand new. That meant that the 2001 had dropped significantly in price. Even so, it was perhaps more costly than Ginny would feel comfortable with. Fortunately, Harry had a soft spot in his heart for the Nimbus 2000. That, coupled with its diminished price, would hopefully be enough to convince Ginny to accept the gift. She deserved a broom of her own, and a good one at that.

Harry made a couple of purchases, and walked outside. He looked up at the sky and found Hedwig circling above, as he had asked her to do. He couldn't trust the shop's owls to deliver the broom because they might deliver it in front of everyone and ruin the surprise. Harry could tell Hedwig, however, to deliver it straight to his room, where Ginny rarely visited.

He waved to his owl, and the brilliant bird flew down and landed on his outstretched arm. He quickly tied the package to her leg and gave her a small snack. He thanked her and reminded her to deliver it straight to his room. She hooted and glared at Harry, clearly offended that he thought he had to repeat his instructions.

"Sorry, girl," Harry smiled. "Better safe than sorry, right?"

He lifted his arm and she took off into the air. He watched her fly off for a short while. Then Harry frowned when he realized the sky suddenly seemed a shade or two dimmer. A chill went down his spine. Immediately, Harry pulled out his wand, scanning the heavens for more clues.

But the sky simply got a little dimmer, and Harry got a little colder.

_They're close, _Harry thought to himself. _But where?_

Harry started moving through Diagon Alley. Other people seemed to be noticing the same thing as him as they stared up at the sky and held themselves tightly, trying to warm up. Soon, parents were seen ushering their children to the nearest floo ports, older witches and wizards began disapparating, and most everyone had out their wands.

Harry quickened his pace as he ran towards the Leaky Cauldron, listening closely to conversations as he passed by different groups of people.

"Must be Dementors," said one older man.

A small girl asked, "Mum, why is it so cold?"

Further down, Harry noticed a member of the DMLE. "…not in Diagon Alley. They're in muggle London, just outside the Leaky…"

Harry's eyes widened. Attacking muggles! From what Harry understood, Dementors didn't care much for muggles. Their souls lacked magic and therefore true sustenance. That meant that they were acting on orders. And that meant Azkaban had been cleared…

Harry began sprinting towards the Leaky Cauldron, trying to clear his mind of all the negative thoughts and emotions and just focus on happiness. Given the nature of his summer, these memories were not hard to come by.

Harry opened the secret passage into the Leaky Cauldron, rushed through the bustling bar, and dashed out into muggle London. He was dressed in robes, and would likely look a bit foolish in front of the muggles. However, the odds were that there would be an enormous memory erasing later this afternoon, so Harry didn't worry too much.

As he opened the door, what he saw terrified him. Dementors roamed the streets, hunting muggles. Harry saw young families huddled together, tears streaming down their faces. He saw more than a few bodies lying motionless in the streets, and Harry feared their state. He wasn't sure what would happen to a muggle when they received a Dementor's Kiss. If it killed them, Harry hoped that it was a quick and painless death, for their sake.

How terrifying this experience must be for them—able to feel the misery and despair of a Dementor, but have absolutely no idea of its cause. If they could think clearly, most of them would probably assume they were contracting mental and psychological illnesses.

Harry spotted a couple of witches and wizards, who tried their best to fend off the Dementors. Harry was proud to see several of them standing between muggles and Dementors, even if all they could form was a tiny silver wisp.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, and envisioned Sirius, surprisingly alive in Grimmauld Place. He thought of their long conversations about his life, future, and hopes, feeling the loving support of a parental figure that was his own for the first time in his memory.

Opening his eyes, Harry shouted, "_Expecto Patronum_!" Larger and brighter than Harry had ever before seen it, the silver stag emerged from Harry's wand and charged into action. Harry directed the stag immediately towards a family cowering near a restaurant. A Dementor was closing in on the terrified muggles, but the stag arrived just in time and bowled the Dementor over. The monster cried out in pain and immediately took to the skies and retreated.

As the silver Prongs dashed to Harry's right to chase off a small group of Dementors, Harry looked left and found a Dementor closing in on a man who was laying prostrate on the ground, shivering. Harry thought to call out to Prongs, but noticed he was busy protecting another family. So Harry did what he always did: he was stupidly heroic.

He burst into a sprint and headed right to the man as the Dementor leaned over him. The closer he got, the harder it was to think happy thoughts. It was getting colder and colder with each step. He decided to hold on to one very fresh memory—his morning at the lake with his friends—and dove at the Dementor.

Harry's stupid heroics prevented him from thinking clearly quite often. Case in point, Voldemort had been able to trick him with ease just months previous to go to the Department of Mysteries. Once again, his bravery had gotten in the way of smart, rational thought. Had he gone through this action in his head, it would have been obvious that it wouldn't work too well. Yet, Harry's stupid heroics often saved lives.

Harry collided with the Dementor, his shoulder hitting a very thin and skeletal structure beneath the billowing cloak. Immediately, his solitary happy memory vanished as despair filled him. His mother's screaming, Cedric's body falling limp to the ground, Sirius' body flying through the veil—it filled Harry's mind and he could sense his consciousness fading.

But, amidst this internal pain, Harry glanced up and found the Dementor he struck writhing on the ground in equivalent pain. His mind too muddled to wonder why, Harry instead tried to latch on to a memory once more. After watching Sirius fall through the veil once more in his mind's eye, Harry kept the vision in place until Sirius emerged from that same veil, a mischievous look on his face. Relief flooded through Harry. It wasn't happiness, per say, but it was a truth that the Dementor could not take away from him. Sirius came back out of that veil. His death was not the end.

With this thought, Harry fended off the black that was pervading his senses and clarity began to come back. After a few moments in this state, Harry felt happiness coming back into his soul and lifted himself up to look for the source. Prongs was charging towards them. Just as Harry had lost happiness with each step he had taken towards the Dementor, now it was filling him with each gallop of the silver stag.

The patronus dipped its head as it arrived and thrust its antlers into the Dementor. A bloodcurdling scream filled the air as the Dementor was knocked back some twenty feet, cloak billowing in the air. The Dementor struggled to stand up, but faltered. Prongs moved to strike again, but not before another Dementor arrived and aided the first to its feet. Together, they glided into the air, retreating.

The man lying next to Harry stopped shaking and was able to sit up. He was in his forties, his dark hair receding. He looked around, trying to understand what was happening. Unfortunately, looking around only seemed to make him more confused.

Harry knew he had to get this man out of the main street, so he just started talking. "It's a terrorist attack," Harry started, realizing at least that was the truth. "Some sort of neurotoxin that affects emotions." Harry scanned the street, determining where the safest place to hide would be. "Get in the shops to the east—I don't think the toxin has spread over there."

The man looked confusedly at the sixteen year old boy telling him how to keep safe. But, his gratitude ultimately topped his logic. "I don't know what you did, son, but thank you." The man stood and ran towards a music shop. Harry sighed in relief, but determined to learn from his near-death encounter.

Prongs seemed satisfied that Harry was safe and started off again, fending Dementors away. Harry wasn't entirely certain what a Dementor went through when in the presence of a patronus. But as he watched his stag chase after and charge into several of the Dementors, it was clear that it did lasting damage. The dark creatures didn't simply run away and then come back when the patronus went in a different direction. They needed time to recuperate.

As Harry tried to stay close to his own patronus to avoid the negative effects of the Dementors, he found that other witches and wizards were having more luck with their own patronuses now that his was present and alleviating some of the Dementors' depression.

In addition, other wizards were soon arriving on the scene. Harry recognized many as Ministry workers—some aurors, some magical law enforcement. Harry also saw many members of the Order arrive, and soon, they had developed a perimeter and were pushing further into London.

It didn't take long to realize the Dementors had been concentrated in the area just outside of Diagon Alley. Harry was relieved to see the attack had not done terrible damage, though there were several bodies, dead in the streets and shops. Harry felt sick to his stomach as he looked on them.

Lupin and Tonks managed to find Harry after the last of the Dementors had been scared away.

"Hey Harry. I thought I saw your stag," Remus said. "Why am I not surprised you're here?" He was winded, and looked much older than he usually did. Harry realized the full moon was just a few days away.

"Hey Moony," Harry responded. "Tonks."

Tonks, recently bright and flirtatious around Harry, looked grim and confused. "Wotcher, Harry. Why attack muggles so close to people who can fight them?" Remus also looked confused. It didn't seem like that wise of an attack.

Harry thought for a moment before responding. "He's not attacking muggles, really."

Both Tonks and Lupin looked at him confusedly. "The bodies on the ground would suggest otherwise, Harry," Lupin said sadly.

"Of course," Harry said, backpedaling. "I don't mean to diminish how terrible this is…it's just, there's something bigger going on here."

Sirius seemed to appear out of nowhere as he joined the conversation from behind Harry. "Harry's right, Moony. Voldemort may not care for muggles and be fine with killing them, but this was a message to the wizarding world. Voldemort is growing in power, and does not have any rules."

Tonks nodded. "A fear tactic."

Harry jumped back in. "Dumbledore always said that fear was his greatest weapon. Not knowing what to expect from him, thinking he could strike anywhere at any time with many different weapons. He's splitting the wizarding world apart—that's what he's doing."

Moony seemed to draw the same conclusion. "He's simultaneously attracting followers who think he will come out victorious and sending would-be opponents to the 'safety' of inactivity. But why not just attack Diagon Alley if he's looking to make us afraid?"

Harry thought about this for a moment. "Well, what's his end goal here? Destruction or a takeover?"

When no one responded, Harry continued. "If it's about destruction, I have no answer for you Moony. But if what Voldemort wants to do is take over society, then I'm sure he wants to keep it in tact. I wouldn't want to take over a mess."

Sirius looked thoughtful. "Yes, which means step one is fear and uncertainty and step two is offering us a choice."

Tonks continued. "A choice between a world with terror and uncertainty or his rule."

Lupin shook his head. "He plans to ransom our safety, asking for the country in return."

"And he's using the muggles right now as a taste of the ransom, hoping that we give in before he has to turn on his own kind." Harry didn't think it would be so easy. The wizarding world wouldn't just bend over because of a few terrorist attacks. In fact, it may just unite the wizarding population and give them cause to fight back.

As if following his own train of thought, Tonks spoke worriedly. "It won't work…unless he weakens the ministry so much that the people don't find any hope from them."

"Even then," Harry spoke optimistically, "Would people really trust him to keep them safe? The one who has just been killing muggles and plans to wipe out those without pure blood?"

Moony chuckled darkly. "Harry, I admire your faith in humanity…but most people are much more prejudiced than you and me. Just look at how I'm treated by the majority of our society."

"Moony's right, Harry," Sirius added, glaring at the destruction around them. "Many of the wizarding world would gladly give up the werewolves and muggleborns of society to have peace. What we need to do is stand as fearless opponents to Voldemort—show people that we don't have to give in."

Memory specialists and other ministry officials involved in the statute of secrecy soon arrived to do damage control. Sirius ushered Harry away before they could question him. However, he noticed a flash of a camera before he made it back into the Leaky Cauldron. He cursed his stupidity of being out in the open like that—now he would certainly be part of the story tomorrow. And he just now realized that the supposedly deceased and evil Sirius Black was walking along with him. _Looks like the cat is out of the bag,_ Harry thought. _Or the dog out of the kennel, I guess._

Sirius sent him through the floo quickly and Harry was surprised to find Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny waiting impatiently on the other side of the network. He was immediately caught up in a hug by the women while Ron looked on in relief.

"Where did you run off to, Harry Potter?" Mrs. Weasley said in a very disapproving but motherly way. Harry felt a strange joy at being berated by her.

"Well, I was off to do a little personal shopping, as I told these three," Harry responded, motioning to his friends, "when I felt the Dementors closing in. I knew I had to help…"

"Oh no you did not!" Mrs. Weasley interrupted. "You are too young to be rushing off to fight, Harry. Let the Order worry about that."

Harry fought down the urge to snap at Mrs. Weasley. He knew she was only trying to protect him and that this was a demonstration of her care for him, not a lack of trust. This helped him stay calm, but his anger was still boiling up.

"Mrs. Weasley…do you know what I saw when I walked out of the Leaky Cauldron? I saw a young muggle family unable to protect themselves. They were all sobbing, and they didn't understand why. Cold and shivering for seemingly no reason. The father and mother held their two children tightly as a Dementor closed in on them."

Mrs. Weasley's face softened as worry was replaced by fear and grief. Harry continued. "I may not be the most qualified or powerful wizard, Mrs. Weasley. But I could do something to help them. I could make sure that family got home today. Together, in one piece.

"Maybe you don't think it's safe—and it isn't! But that's exactly why I've got to do everything I can to help those who can't help themselves." Harry thought of the prophecy and his words rang even more true to him. For the first time in a while, the magnitude of Trelawny's prognostication hit Harry. "Sometimes, I'm the only one that can help—and if I don't step up in that moment, who will?"

-0-0-0-

"We really don't need to celebrate," Ginny said softly. "Not after what happened today."

Her mother made an annoyed sound as she brought the cake in and set it on the kitchen table. "Nonsense, Ginny. Of course we are going to celebrate. It's your birthday!"

Ginny knew this, naturally. But she still felt terrible preparing to blow out candles when families had been torn apart in a terrorist attack just hours earlier.

She felt a hand on her own. She looked up to find its owner looking deeply at her—almost as if he saw through her. She suspected sometimes that Harry _could_ see right into her soul. He smiled sadly at her and squeezed her hand.

"Ginny, if we don't keep living our lives, he's winning. We have no way of striking back right now other than being happy and continuing strong." Ginny gave him a small smile and nodded. She tried not to let her disappointment show when his hand left her own. She thought this an odd statement to come from the brood master himself—then again, Harry was more qualified to make that comment than anyone she knew, and it meant a lot to her.

As she looked around the table, Hermione, Ron, Fred, and George all nodded their heads in agreement.

"Harry's right, sis." Fred said.

"Old Moldy-Warts wins when we stop having fun," George continued. Molly made an outraged noise at the irreverent nickname given to their greatest enemy.

"Yup," Ron agreed. "So let's have some cake to spite the monster."

Everyone chuckled and began to eat. Ginny did her best to forget the afternoon's events and enjoy the evening. It was made much easier by her family's good nature and her memories of that morning.

To start the great morning had been her first real sleep-in for weeks. Few things made Ginny happier than sleep. As it happened, one of those few things was waiting for her when she woke up—Harry. She felt so at ease around him, like she could be herself one hundred percent of the time. Perhaps that's why she had never brought up Dean around him before today. She didn't want anything to change the friendship she had with him. Although, if she was being honest with herself, she knew it had a lot more to do with not wanting to hinder any feelings Harry might develop for her. She felt terrible about having so little faith in her future with Dean and determined not to let her feelings for Harry get in the way of developing feelings for people who actually reciprocated them.

_But_, a voice in her head interrupted, _he did look at you today. I mean…really _looked_ at you._

Ginny sighed, which got her a couple of strange looks at the dinner table. It was tough having a conversation in one's head while also trying to take part in what was going on around you.

Shrugging off their weird looks, Ginny continued to eat her cake while glancing at Harry, who was engaged in a deep conversation with George about one of their products he had seen earlier that day. She had to mentally tell herself to look away. She could stare at him for hours if no one was watching. Ginny repressed another sigh—one that was aimed at her own foolishness and love-sick attitude.

_But_, the voice said again, seemingly unable to make a statement that wasn't contradictory. _He's certainly noticing you now…_

Yes, Harry was a teenage boy. And Ginny had grown up enough for Harry to take notice. Ginny would be very surprised if Harry (or any other boy) _didn't _stare a little at most girls.

The little voice in her head went on to highlight the fun they had together, the look he gave her when they were underwater together, the way he held her so close to his unfairly and irresistibly toned body. A body that she had gawked at as much as Harry ever did at hers.

But for every argument the voice in her head had that Harry might like her, Ginny was able to refute it with some excuse. Ultimately, Ginny and the voice in her head decided to call it a stalemate until further evidence presented itself.

"Oi, Ginny!"

Ginny startled out of her thoughts and looked at Ron, who was waving his hand in front of her face. "What, Ronald?" Ginny responded hotly, quite embarrassed to once again be caught in her head. She chanced another look at Harry, who had a _very_ amused look on his face. She merely narrowed her eyes at him.

"We asked if you wanted to open your presents."

This changed her attitude immediately and she nodded enthusiastically. Everyone present retrieved their gifts to give to her. Harry was the last to arrive back at the table. One by one they gave gifts—none of which surprised Ginny really. Candy, clothes, prank items, and books—nothing out of the ordinary, but wonderful nonetheless. Harry pulled out his gift, which she unwrapped excitedly. It was a broom tuning kit, which Ginny was grateful for.

Upon closer inspection, however, she found that the kit was designed for a Nimbus broom. It would work just fine on her dated Cleansweep, but Ginny was a little disheartened that Harry didn't even remember what broom she used. They had talked about it a few times over the summer and flown together often.

She let none of these negative emotions cross her face, of course. She was very grateful for the gift and it would still be very useful. "Thank you, Harry!" she exclaimed, giving him a quick hug. She thought he had a bit of a smirk on his face, which she found to be an odd expression for the situation.

The evening wore on, and after a few games and another round of cake, Fred and George left for their flat in Diagon Alley. Ron yawned widely (and very unattractively, Ginny noted) and exclaimed he was also ready to turn in. He wished Ginny a happy birthday one last time before heading up the stairs.

Hermione buried herself in one of the books that she had given Ginny—one that Ginny suspected she had already read twice over. Why not a third time, though?

Glancing at Harry, she found him smiling at Hermione, likely thinking the same thing. When Ginny made to get up and go to her room, Harry immediately stood and followed her. Secretly, Ginny was very flattered and pleased that he wanted to do something so small as walk up the stairs with her. But, she told herself not to dwell on it as Harry began to speak to her.

"So, excluding an awful middle, how was your birthday, Ginny?"

Ginny thought about it for a moment. "Well, a sleep-in, a fun morning at the pond with you, a trip to Diagon Alley, an attack on London that we are excluding from this list, a great dinner, cake, and presents. I'd say it was pretty great."

They arrived at Ginny's door, where she expected him to say goodbye. Instead he stopped and smiled at her. "You never commented on my bad present."

Ginny frowned. "Bad? It wasn't bad!"

"You ride a Cleansweep, Ginny. That tuner will do an average job at best."

While Ginny felt immediately better that Harry had been listening and paying attention during their talking and flying, she felt quite confused now as to why he would have bought a "bad" present for her.

"Better that nothing," Ginny commented, uncertainly.

"Well, I think you deserve much better than that," Harry said and pushed her bedroom door open for the second time that day. Ginny looked inside, as confused as ever, until her eyes landed on a beautiful broom, sitting on her bed.

Ginny felt excitement run through her. Her jaw dropped involuntarily and she rushed into her room, giving a very light squeal. She picked up the broom in her hands—a Nimbus 2000! It felt so perfect in her small hands. She had read recently that Nimbus was the best line for Chasers, and now she owned one!

But just as sudden as the elation had come, so did it vanish. She turned around sharply and opened her mouth to explain why she was extremely grateful, but could not accept this very expensive gift. She was surprised to find that Harry had stepped into her room and was standing right behind her when she turned around. Before any words left her mouth, Harry had a finger against her lips—motioning for her to keep quiet. She did, but not so much because he was telling her to as the fact that Harry was touching her lips and she momentarily forgot how to speak.

"Don't you dare say you can't accept this. It is my gift to you."

"But—" Ginny began, speaking over Harry's finger. But he cut her off.

"But nothing. It's two models old now, and is a fraction of the cost."

"But—" she said again, to the same end.

"This is the same as my very first broom, Ginny. Nothing would make me happier than to see you riding it during our matches."

"But—" she attempted a third time.

"Ginny," Harry interrupted, but his voice was patient. "Don't tell Sirius this, but he hasn't been undeclared dead yet, and his will left everything to me. That means I still have all of his money. I'm loaded!" Harry grinned, and Ginny herself let out a laugh. Harry dropped his finger, which was somewhat disappointing.

After a pregnant pause, Ginny conceded and threw herself into Harry's arms, causing him to stumble backwards a bit before he hugged her tightly in return.

What an odd thing. Harry Potter had just given her one of the—if not _the_—best and most thoughtful gifts she had every received. Harry Potter. Not only that, but he was currently hugging her tightly in her own bedroom. If told three months ago that this would happen on her birthday, Ginny would have laughed. If told this a year ago, she would have had the predictor committed to the mental ward at St. Mungo's.

Hermione had recently told her about when she had become friends with Ron and Harry. All it took was for the three of them to share a traumatic experience together and they had been nearly inseparable since. Ginny wondered if the same had happened with her and the encounter with Death Eaters at the Ministry.

Whatever the case, as she released Harry from the hug, Ginny was very grateful. "Thank you, Harry," she whispered fiercely up at him. He looked down at her with those beautiful green eyes that could peer right into her soul.

"Happy Birthday, Ginny," Harry whispered back. Ginny's breath caught as he winked at her and turned to leave. Ginny went to bed that night having completely forgotten about the attack on London. The next morning she would feel slightly guilty about it—but then again, Harry had that calming effect on people. He made her feel safe, like everything was okay. It had been a very happy birthday, indeed.


	8. Revelation and Transfiguration

**A/N: Sorry for the long delay. Shouldn't happen again. This chapter picks up very shortly after the last one with some implications carrying over, so a brief recap: the Dementors just attacked outside of Diagon Alley and Harry found himself in the fight, as usual. Also, if you've forgotten about Lucius Malfoy's early moment in the story, check out the preface again. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 7: Revelation and Transfiguration

It had been a few hours since Harry had gotten into bed. Before that, Harry hadn't been in bed for nearly forty hours due to the spells he cast to give himself physical energy at the expense of his magic. Despite this, his mind would not calm down enough to fall asleep. He sighed somewhat loudly and rolled out of bed. He walked out of the room he shared with Ron, not noticing his snoring had stopped.

When Harry got into the landing outside of Ron's room, he looked up and down the stairs, trying to decide where to go. He didn't really want to pass anyone's door and risk waking them, so he turned up the stairs instead. On his way to the attic, his thoughts continued to blare in his mind. Thoughts of Voldemort and the emerging war.

He had been having such an incredible summer. Sirius was alive, he was living at the Burrow, and his magical ability was growing immensely. He hadn't had immediate threats and he'd ultimately been shielded from reality the last couple months. Despite training for a fight with Voldemort the whole summer and attending Order meetings, Harry had somehow forgotten how real the threat was until he took part in an attack himself.

As Harry opened the attic door and clambered up, he berated himself for being so selfish. People had been suffering all summer, and he never thought about them. Not until he was looking at motionless bodies strewn in the streets of London.

But now, he couldn't keep his thoughts straight at all. He couldn't keep his emotions in check, much less decipher exactly how he felt. Fear, guilt, exhilaration, strength, worry. It all floated around in Harry's head, without any real direction.

Harry lit his wand with a quick, "_Lumos_," and sat against the wall. Looking around the low-ceilinged room he was in, Harry saw plenty of old boxes which likely contained seasonal decorations and old clothes that no longer fit any of the children. Lying down behind a pile of boxes, Harry saw the pale, slimy head of the Burrow's ghoul. "Wow," Harry whispered to himself as he looked more closely. "You really are hideous, aren't you?"

As if he heard Harry in his sleep, the ghoul moaned slightly and rolled over. Harry was surprised his curiosity had never brought him up to the attic sooner to look at the odd magical creature. The thought crossed his mind that he was grateful for the distraction from his confusing feelings, but that just brought them back in full force.

Just as Harry's thoughts returned to Voldemort, the door to the attic swung open and Ron's head popped into view. Harry was surprised to see his friend, who normally slept like a log…that had been clubbed with a rock.

"Hey Harry," Ron said, somewhat sleepily. "You alright?"

Harry gave a weak smile at his friend. "I'm fine, Ron. Just needed a little time to think."

Ron climbed into the attic and sat next to Harry. "Think?"

Harry chuckled. "It's this thing some people do. It's hard to explain what it is, exactly."

Ron elbowed Harry in the ribs. "Sod off," he said with a smile. "What are you thinking about?"

Harry looked at his best friend. Aside from a couple of stupid arguments, Ron had always been by his side. Through the hell that Harry had often gone through, Ron was a constant. Someone who he hid nothing from, and always seemed to understand his need for space or to talk, without really intending to.

"Thinking about the war. I guess I had kind of forgotten it was going on, you know?"

Ron nodded. "Yea…not really forgotten, but just let it slip to the back of your mind?"

"Yea," Harry confirmed. "I feel kind of bad about it."

Ron frowned at Harry. "Why? I mean…it's not like we're a part of the war yet…"

Before Harry could conceal his emotions, he knew his face darkened at the comment Ron made. Ron clearly caught the look, as he questioned, "Or are we?"

Harry took a deep breath. Perhaps it was time. He had successfully split his life in two this summer. The Harry who trained to become a fighter, and the Harry who played at the pond with his friends. A large part of him was afraid of these two lives colliding. Would he ever reach the same level of contentment that had existed on a summer's night, flying around the Burrow with Ron and Ginny? But he knew it had to happen eventually. And there might never be a better time to share it than right after an attack by the Dementors.

Harry took a deep breath. "I guess it's just hard for me to go on having a fun summer when there are people dying out there."

Ron shook his head. "We don't have to pretend the attack didn't happen, Harry. But like you said to Ginny earlier, if we don't go on living, Voldemort has already won."

_Neither can live while the other survives_¸ Harry recited to himself. Yes…it was time. "Ron, I…well…"

_How does one say something like this?_ Harry looked up at Ron. He had a confused expression on his face, but nodded for Harry to continue.

"Dumbledore knew what the prophecy said," Harry said abruptly. Ron's eyebrows lifted.

"From the ministry? Did he tell you?"

Harry nodded. "It says…that Voldemort and I are…destined to fight to the death."

Ron let out a long breath. "Does it say anything else?"

Harry nodded again. "Something about me having the power to vanquish him, and that neither of us can live while the other survives…"

"Wow," Ron said, clearly at a loss for words. Harry didn't blame him. "So, I guess this pretty much confirms what I've always thought…" he finished after a moment.

Harry looked sharply at Ron. "What?"

Ron smiled sadly at Harry. "Sorry for thinking this, mate…but I've kind of always thought you were going to face him—again, I mean. You've already gone up against him, what, five times?"

Harry nodded slowly. "Not to mention that you've been training with Sirius. But hey, at least now you've got this bit about having some power to finish him off. Do you know what it is?"

Harry had to smile at his best mate. He did always seem to take things in stride, go with the flow. And now that Harry thought about it, he had always known he'd face Voldemort again, too. He just never thought it would be to the death until he heard the prophecy. "Dumbledore says it's love…but I don't understand it. I've been training with Sirius a lot, but love has never made me stronger."

Ron put his arm around Harry's shoulder. "I'm sure you'll figure it out, Harry. You always do." Ron paused for a moment, taking his arm back. He looked at Harry with an agitated expression. "Sweet Merlin, Harry, I can't believe you've kept this to yourself! You've got to tell Hermione."

"I know," Harry said slowly. "We were just having such a great summer. I didn't want to think about it too much. But after yesterday…I guess I've got to face it some time."

Ron nodded and stood up. He had to hunch over to avoid the low ceiling. "Come on, Harry. Let's get to sleep. You've got to go running in the morning, after all."

Grinning, Harry took his outstretched hands and got to his feet. "You know you can join us if you'd like."

Ron laughed as he opened the door. "That's a good one, Harry. Like to join you for running..."

Soon, they were back in their beds, and Harry felt sleep coming over him quickly. The emotions were still present. But oddly, they were much more muted. A smile touched on Harry lips as Ron's snoring returned quickly. Not long after, Harry fell asleep as well.

-0-0-0-

"I would like to introduce you to two new members of the Order," Dumbledore stated. "Henry Cooper and Sarah Sellers."

There were many murmurs of welcoming from various members of the Order, situated around the situation table at Grimmauld Place. There would be time for personal introductions later, of course.

"First order of business is obviously the attack on London," Dumbledore continued. He motioned for Kingsley to take the floor.

"There were fourteen muggles killed during the attack," Kingsley began, bluntly. A chorus of sad noises was heard in the room. "And a witch and a wizard were both kissed when trying to defend those muggles.

"The Dementors have obviously switched sides, and the outcome is a massive breakout of Azkaban. The five death eaters caught earlier in the summer, along with over two dozen more were freed and we have only recaptured two—neither of which were great threats to begin with.

"In short," Kingsley concluded, "We took a major step backwards yesterday. The Ministry is scrambling to find a high security prison for the Death Eaters that are captured. But as you all know, the Ministry can operate slowly with so much bureaucracy to go through. So in the meantime, we are holding them in one of the rooms of the Department of Mysteries, which has received considerable upgrades in security since the events of last May."

"Thank you, Kingsley," Dumbledore said, standing once more. "While this is mostly bad news, there is one silver lining."

Dumbledore paused for dramatic effect, which made Harry smile inwardly. Always one to play with his audience's emotions. "We now know that Voldemort has direct help inside the Ministry. We've suspected he may have placed a couple of unknown Death Eaters there over the last year. For him to communicate with Azkaban's Dementors means that he had a man inside the Ministry to get him there. Therefore, one of our top priorities is now to locate whatever moles he has in the Ministry before they can begin taking it from the inside. We all know how unstable the Ministry is right now."

Snape stood with a nod from Dumbledore. "The Dark Lord had also informed me of the existence of multiple plants he has inside the Ministry. Unfortunately, he has trusted no one with the names—at least to my knowledge. I will continue to seek out their identities from his Inner Circle, but ultimately, this job will likely fall to the Ministry workers."

Harry glanced at Mr. Weasley, Tonks, and Kingsley, who all nodded their understanding. Harry himself wasn't convinced Snape didn't know who the moles were. Every meeting thus far, Snape would give the report that Voldemort wanted him to give to the Order in front of everyone. Then, some time later, he would meet personally with Dumbledore when no one else was watching—so as to prevent Snape from ever being exposed as a traitor to the Death Eaters. The only reason Harry knew this is because Dumbledore had invited him in on one such occasion, much to the chagrin of Snape. Snape had told Dumbledore, Harry, and Sirius of Voldemort's future plans regarding the Prophecy, which involved using a memory-removing spell that he was working on. At some point, Snape was to use the spell on Dumbledore.

The meeting continued for another half hour, as members were issued new watch assignments around the country and solutions to problems were offered and debated. All in all, Harry didn't feel like a _lot_ was getting accomplished, but he also couldn't think of a way to improve that.

When the meeting ended, Harry approached his second least favorite person in the world. "Professor Snape," Harry said, drawing his attention. "I was hoping to speak with you about your advanced Potions class…"

"Let me guess," Snape sneered. "Harry Potter is once again seeking special treatment and wishes to enroll despite his abysmal performance on the OWL."

Harry kept his face impassive, though under his skin, blood boiled. "Why, yes, Professor. I am seeking special treatment. Not because I am Harry Potter, but because I wouldn't be at peace if I didn't do everything possible to become an Auror. And as you obviously know, my Exceeds Expectations grade is not enough for you. I was simply wondering if there was something I could do to make up for that lower grade."

"No, Potter, there is nothing _you_ can do." Harry's heart sank. So this was it? He would not be an Auror. Harry began thinking about other career options when Snape spoke again, "but fortunately for you, the _School Board_ has seen fit to interfere once more in my affairs. Apparently, in the wake of the Dark Lord's return, they feel that more students need to take NEWT level Potions in order to better aid in the war."

Harry felt excitement build within him. "So 'Exceeds Expectations' students will be able to take your class?"

Snape's lip curled and he looked as though he would rather be anywhere but in front of Harry, answering this question. "Yes. Once again, Potter, things work out for you to cover your inadequacies."

Harry let out a short laugh before sarcastically responding. "'Things work out for you,' he tells the orphan whose parents were murdered. Lucky Harry Potter."

Snape's face darkened. "Ten points from Gryf…"

Harry chose this moment to interrupt Snape, though he knew he would pay for it once school started. "Nice try, Professor. You'll have to find some ridiculous way to take points from me in a few weeks, because you can't do it yet. Thanks!" Harry turned around and went to tell Sirius the good news.

After Sirius gleefully mocked Snape and his lack of control, Harry decided he should go meet the new Order members Henry Cooper and Sarah Sellers. He walked up to Cooper first, a good-looking guy with dark brown hair and a little stubble on his face. He looked to be about Bill Weasley's age.

"Harry Potter," Cooper said confidently as Harry approached. "I didn't expect to see you in this meeting."

"Let's just say I've run into enough trouble that Dumbledore thought I should be aware of where the trouble is so I can avoid it."

Cooper laughed and Harry found himself liking the man immediately. "Henry Cooper," he said, extending a hand. "But everyone calls me Cooper…or Coop."

"Good to meet you, Cooper. What brings you to the Order?"

"Well, I was thinking about joining with Tonks last year," Cooper said, motioning towards Tonks who was chatting with a sickly Remus across the room. "But I'm ashamed to say that I was a little worried about my job—I work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. And while I believed you, Harry, I didn't want to lose my new job."

Harry nodded his head. He was grateful for the man's honesty and understood the man's trepidation, though he wished he had had more conviction in his beliefs. At least he was here now. "Well, better late than never, yeah?"

Cooper nodded sadly. "After the attack yesterday, I went straight to Tonks and told her I was ready to join. She arranged a meeting with Dumbledore and here I am."

"It's good to have you," Harry commented and bid farewell. He looked around to find Sarah Sellers, only to find her staring intently at him. Most people would look away embarrassedly when caught doing this, but Sarah continued to look right at him.

Somewhat annoyed, Harry made his way towards the beautiful, thirty-something woman. She had long blonde hair, and piercing blue eyes that seemed to peer into Harry's soul. It was unnerving. "Hi, Mrs. Sellers, was it?"

"Miss," the woman replied. She spoke in an informational tone. "But you can call me Sarah."

Immediately, Harry realized that Cooper had been a very easy person to talk to—and Sarah was the exact opposite. "Ok…Sarah. Erm, what brings you to the Order?"

"Well, I was investigating the attack yesterday—I'm a reporter for the Daily Prophet—and I…oh we're not all bad." Harry realized his feelings for reporters must have shown through his face. This surprised him, as he was quite proud of his ability to conceal his emotions when he wanted.

"I see you are surprised that I know your feelings for reporters," Sarah said with a slight smile, which Harry found made her a much more approachable woman. But he didn't dwell on this thought much because he was even more surprised by the woman knowing his every feeling. "I'm a Detector," Sarah said, her informational tone returning. When seeing, or perhaps sensing, Harry's confusion, she explained, "Detectors have an innate ability to know or feel others' emotions."

Harry immediately felt nervous about someone knowing his every emotion—and then realized that she would know the nerves he was feeling. "Well," Harry said, letting his nerves be heard in his voice. What was the point in hiding them? "I don't know how I feel about that. Is there any way to hide them from you?"

Sarah shrugged. "Occlumency helps a little, but mostly because it calms your emotions—not that it hides them. Also, I need to be concentrated on just one person to detect their emotions, so all you need is to make some distractions and I can't do it anymore."

Harry smiled, glad to know a couple of tricks to keep her out of his heart. "I'm a little nervous to have you on board," Harry said, again not seeing the point in shying away from his feelings towards the woman. "But, I'm glad you're on our side. Welcome to the Order."

"Thank you, Harry," Sarah said, smiling once more. He got the sense that she was grateful for his honesty—but he wasn't a Detector, so he couldn't be sure. "And I'm sorry for what was written in the Prophet this morning. That's not fair to you at all."

Harry felt his stomach drop and a sickening feeling enter his gut. Sarah sensed this and immediately spoke up, "You haven't read it yet…well, I assure you I would never write or allow that to be written if I were the editor."

"I look forward to reading it," Harry said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Thanks for the heads up."

As Sarah nodded her acknowledgment of his gratitude and farewell, Harry turned to walk back to Sirius, who he realized had been watching his conversation with Sarah very closely. He passed Mundungus Fletcher, looking blankly around at all the members of the Order with an odd expression on his face. Harry shook his head, laughing at the man who appeared to be drunk at the early hour.

When he arrived back at where Sirius stood in the corner of the room, Harry sighed heavily. "Time for training?"

"Don't sound so excited, pup." Sirius responded sarcastically.

Harry grinned at the sarcasm and his new nickname. "It's just gotten a little boring, what with me beating you every time."

Sirius glowered. "One time, Harry. One time you beat me in a duel and suddenly act like you own the place."

"Technically," Harry responded cheekily, "I do."

This time it was Sirius' turn to grin mischievously. "Not for long! The Ministry found out I'm alive and Gringotts will soon reverse my will."

Harry's eyes widened. "They found you out? Are you cleared?"

Sirius shrugged. "With Dumbledore vouching for me and Sarah now a member of the Order, I suspect I'll be cleared soon enough and the truth will come out."

"Careful what you wish for, Padfoot. You might have to contribute to society now."

"Yea, yea, yea…let's go." Sirius said, waving his hand at Harry's comment.

They made their way to the training room, careful to not draw the attention of the departing Order members. They spent the next few hours working on a new style of fighting that Harry had never entertained before. It involved using transfiguration and charms over hexes, curses, and shields. Harry positively ate it up and was grateful to add some new strategies to his fighting style. He was not nearly as gifted with transfiguration and charms as with simple curse volleying, so his practice duels took a step back. But Harry knew that it would ultimately be of great benefit to him. He made goals that, by the end of the summer, he would best Sirius in a second duel, utilizing these new techniques.

After teaching him the basics, Sirius would send a series of summoned and conjured weapons at Harry, ranging from hurtling javelins to slithering snakes. Harry's task was to determine the magical properties of the weapons and then transfigure them into a retaliating weapon or at least something not life threatening. Harry was far too slow at first and "died" a few times in the training room. Fortunately, Harry had become a very fast learner, and was starting to get the hang of things by the end of their training.

"Last one," Sirius said before lifting his wand. Sirius made a complex gesture that Harry didn't recognize, and a stream of fire emerged from Sirius' wand. Harry waved his wand with the intent to transform the fire into water that would do his own bidding. Basic Inter-elemental transfiguration was generally a simple task, so when absolutely nothing happened to the fire coming fast at him, Harry was momentarily confused. As a result, he threw himself out of the line of fire a little late and the spell grazed his shoulder.

What surprised Harry, though, was the injury was not a burn, but rather a dislocated elbow that felt oddly cold. It was almost as though he hadn't been hit by fire…but ice.

Harry struggled back to his feet as the spell turned around and came flying back at him. He knew now why his inter-elemental transfiguration spell hadn't worked. He altered his spell choice and waved his wand at the incoming 'fire.'

Once again, no visible change happened, but this time it was Harry's intent. He dropped to his stomach as the spell hurtled over him and right back at Sirius who was grinning widely. He flicked his wand, obviously hoping to bend the spell back at Harry, but nothing happened. Another flick of his wand and his eyes grew wide when nothing happened. Like Harry had done moments before, Sirius dove out of the way, but when the spell hit his shoulder, his robes burst into flames.

Sirius called for the end of the simulation and the room changing from the white-walled dueling room of their minds to the basement of Grimmauld place.

"Nicely done, Harry. You realized my trick a little sooner than I expected." Sirius shook his head and looked at Harry in defeat.

"How did you make a bolt of ice look like fire? That was incredible!" Harry didn't care much about his victory. After all, if the players hadn't limited themselves to transfiguration only, Sirius could have easily cast a shield to defend himself from the fire. This certainly didn't count as the victory Harry set a goal to achieve by the end of summer.

No, Harry was more interested in yet another new technique to add to his dueling. Misdirection.

"Well, it takes a lot of time to go into the theory and wandwork of it. Your dad was the greatest I've ever seen at making one spell look like another. It got his spells past a lot of shields."

Harry's mind raced with the possibilities. Of course James Potter would get past a lot of shields. If he sent a more powerful stunner at a Death Eater, but made it appear like a simple _Stupefy_, then the Death Eater wouldn't think twice about casting a simple _Protego_ to defend himself instead of a more powerful shield necessary to block the spell.

Sirius continued, seeing the wheels turning in Harry's head. "It is a great skill, and I will teach you what I can, but know that there are limitations. You saw how long that spell took me to cast—and had you known some of the basic wand movements to make it happen, you would have cast a diagnostic charm to find out what you were dealing with instead of trusting your eyes. And just like you did, you can use my deception against me. You turned my ice into the fire it actually looked like, and so I thought I was still in control. Nicely done."

"Thanks," Harry responded, but was too distracted to feel much pride. He was going to have trouble falling asleep again tonight with all of the battle scenarios he would envision with these two new fighting techniques. Though the reason for his restlessness last night was quite different than envisioning potential battle scenarios. It was thinking about real battle that had kept Harry up.

Sirius seemed to notice a change in Harry's visage, for he said, "Hey, Harry." He waited for Harry to look up before continuing. "What's up?"

Harry laughed a humorless laugh. "Nothing," he said, thought he knew Sirius (and himself) wouldn't be satisfied with that answer, so he continued without prompt. "It's just…after the battle yesterday, I've been a bit reflective."

The training room seemed to recognize the change in pace and two chairs materialized out of thin air and the two sat down without a second thought. Harry would have found their instinctive reaction funny were he not deep in introspection.

"Reflecting on what exactly?" Sirius asked, his voice soft.

It was not the first time this summer their conversations had grown serious. Harry loved his relationship with Sirius for that very reason—they had a very brotherly relationship, similar to how he was with Ron, or how he imagined his father had been with Sirius. But the main difference was that Sirius, despite his best efforts to show otherwise, was wiser and more experienced than Harry. So, while Harry thought of Sirius as a big brother most times, there were occasional glimpses of him being a father. And in those moments, Harry opened up more than he ever had to anyone before.

"I suppose I have been reflecting on how overwhelming it all is," Harry said trying to find the words. "I've been trying to separate my life—the Harry Potter who tries to have a normal summer with his friends, and the Harry Potter who prepares to kill Voldemort."

Sirius nodded. "And that's why I wanted you to live at the Burrow, Harry. As much as I would love you to live with me…I felt like you needed a physical separation from the training."

Harry nodded. "I think you were right to suggest it," Harry said. "But yesterday, my two worlds collided—and it's been jarring. Overwhelming, like I said. But those words don't describe it. Last night…I felt like I was drowning, almost. I couldn't think straight. One second I was feeling guilty about my lack of sorrow for the victims of this battle and previous ones, and the next second I was thinking about Voldemort…and that I've got to…"

Harry left the thought hanging. And he didn't leave it hanging because he feared how it ended, but rather, he didn't know how it ended—there were so many possibilities. Sirius offered a suggestion. "That you've got to kill him?"

Harry shook his head. "Not just that. I've got to _find_ a way to kill him. He's immortal!"

Silence followed that statement for a long moment.

"Harry," Sirius said softly, but not weakly. He waited again for Harry to meet his eyes. They were full of support and love. "A prophecy may have told you you've got a power and that you're going to be the one to finish the bastard off, but don't think for a _minute_, for a _second_, that it's up to you, and you alone."

"But I can't help it!" Harry responded. It's not just that I've got to kill him, or find out _how_ to kill him, Sirius. I've got to be a hope to people. I've got to lead them. I've got to keep everyone from getting hurt or dying!" Sirius opened his mouth, but Harry cut him off. "I know it's irrational, Sirius. You don't need to tell me that. But I can't help but feel it sometimes. Just for brief moments, like last night, when I felt like I was drowning."

Sirius nodded. "I would feel it, too," Sirius said honestly. "Sometimes I do, when I think of the gift I was given to come back to life. In a way, your responsibility is also mine. I can't fail, Harry. If I don't prepare you the best way possible, if I fail in some way…" Sirius left the ending dangling as well, and Harry suspected it was because he, _too_, didn't quite know how to finish the thought. "But when it all gets a little too heavy, I just look at you Harry, and I know it's all going to be okay.

"I don't say that to put more pressure on you, but to let you know that I believe in you. I feel the love you have for your friends, and the determination that stems from it. And I draw strength from that. I draw strength from you. I'd like to be that person for you, too."

Harry's eyes had drifted to his feet again, but the silence brought them back to Sirius face. And in that moment, Harry knew what Sirius was talking about. He felt such unbelievable support from him, such strength radiating off him, ready to catch Harry, should he fall. Harry had experienced a similar emotion this morning with Ron.

And for the briefest moment, Harry understood a little bit more about the power the Dark Lord knew not as a swooping sensation filled his lungs. He smiled at his godfather, and nodded. The conversation ended without more words—no more were needed.

It was deep into the afternoon before Sirius sent an exhausted but happy Harry back to the Burrow. When Harry stumbled out of the floo and into the Weasley's living room, he saw Hermione and Ron in a heated argument while Hermione was holding a Daily Prophet in her hand.

Both of their heads snapped to Harry as he tried to steady himself from his least favorite method of travel. Hermione immediately began interrogating him as Ron looked apologetic behind her. "Have you seen the Prophet, Harry? Do you realize what they are calling you? What does this have to do with the prophecy? Don't sidestep this; Ron already let it slip!"

Harry glanced amusedly at Ron, who looked ashamed. "She used her mind powers on me, mate. The next thing I knew, I had spouted out that you might know something about the prophecy."

Hermione turned back at Ron and glared. "Oh you couldn't wait to tell me just enough to get me curious and then not tell me what you know!"

Harry laughed, and both Ron and Hermione lightened up—they seemed relieved he was good-natured about it. "Is anyone else home?" Harry asked, looking around the Burrow as far as he could see.

Ron shook his head. "Dad's at work still, Mum took Ginny back to Diagon Alley—she didn't finish her shopping because of…well, that." Ron pointed to the Daily Prophet, which Hermione held out. For the first time, Harry read what Sarah Sellers had warned him about that morning.

In the middle of the front page was a picture of Sirius and Harry in London shortly after the Dementor battle. They were heading back into the Leaky Cauldron to floo away. On either side of the picture were two stories. On the left side, the heading read, _Harry Potter: Chosen One? _The other story headlined,_ Sirius Black Alive and Allied._

Harry was pleased to see that Sarah had written the story on Sirius and was sure it was truthful. He didn't recognize the author of his own story and thus didn't know how truthful it would be. The title, however, suggested that the writer had guessed a truth that very few people knew for certain.

Harry looked at Hermione who looked back with concern, apprehension, and a glint of curiosity that he had seen her with so often. Harry smiled softly back at her. "Looks like _The Prophet_ now has a record of _two _stories with true headlines."

Harry had tried to make it a joke to lighten the serious nature of the prophecy. The joke didn't have the desired effect, however, and Harry was soon enveloped in a tight embrace by Hermione. He could feel her trembling a little as he wrapped his own arms around her.

"It's not fair," she said softly into his shoulder where her head was pressed. Harry glanced up at Ron, who seemed to have conflicting emotions on his own face as he looked at Harry and Hermione holding each other. "You've already been through so much!"

Harry didn't like pity. He didn't like attention in general. But he had to admit, the strength and comfort he was getting from Hermione, as well as that which he reciprocated, felt very good. And for the third time in less than twenty-four hours, Harry was immensely grateful for his wonderful friends, who had stuck with him through it all and were now giving him their support when he needed it most.

"I know," Harry said softly into Hermione's bushy hair. "We all have—and we'll go through more." Harry leaned back so he could look into Hermione's face. She wasn't crying, but her eyes held unshed tears. "But we'll come through it. We always have—and as long as I've got you guys, we always will."

There would be a time, later, when he would read the article. A time when he would reflect on his cruel responsibility the paper had exposed to the world. There would come a time for that article to point out the many times Harry had faced You-Know-Who, had been in the right (or wrong, depending on the point of view) place at the right time to protect and help people. A time would come to celebrate Sirius' name being cleared to the public so that the legal actions would be expedited. There would be a time to tell Hermione and Ron the _exact_ wording of the prophecy so that they could better help him accept it and understand it. But now was not that time. Now was a time for his best friends to give their emotional support to him unconditionally. And Harry couldn't be more grateful for that.

-0-0-0-

Lucius sat down in his dining hall. He didn't sit at the head of the table, however. No, Lucius was now a guest in his own home. There was a new Master of the house.

"My dear Death Eaters," the Master spoke, his voice high and chilling, deceptively kind. "I have won your freedom!"

There were cheers around the table. Over a dozen of the men and women had been in Azkaban—some for just weeks, like Lucius himself. Others had been there for years, and the crazed look in their eyes, the sallow skin, and the shaking hands proved it.

But while the cheers rang out, Lucius scoffed inwardly. Freedom. Lucius couldn't remember the last time he felt freedom, true freedom. And he doubted he ever would. At least not while his Master sat at the head of his table.

But therein lay the problem. If not for his Master, Lucius would be no more free than he had been two days earlier, writhing on the floors of an Azkaban cell, praying to any god who would listen for a reprieve from his heinous guilt and sorrow.

Voldemort spoke again, breaking Lucius from his fleeting thoughts. "For some of you, a few weeks' rest is in order. I am not a cruel Lord—I understand the great suffering you have undergone for me in the prison of demons. For others, who have spent less time in that hell, I have work for you."

Lucius stood with a few others, knowing already what his duty would be. And frankly, he was glad for it. "Lucius, you are forgiven of your failures at the Ministry on the basis that you have given us a base of operations in your home. But for every minute my base is so weak and ineffective, my patience for your inadequacies grows weaker."

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius responded, revealing no evidence of his disdain to even the keenest of observers or the most skilled legilimens.

"To the Lestranges," Voldemort continued, "I am sending you abroad immediately. The pitiful force that stands here today is nigh enough to stir up fear and uncertainty. And Salazar knows the Death Eaters outside of this Inner Circle are little more than pawns. We need fighters, leaders, and people who will not be swayed by the rhetoric of Dumbledore or the 'purity' of Harry Potter."

Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan Lestrange all expressed their gratitude for the assignment and sat down.

Voldemort went on to assign Avery, Nott, Goyle, and Dolohov the duty of recruitment in the country, while Macnair was asked to resume his work with the Giants, as the Order of the Phoenix had successfully swayed a number of them to return to their homes in the mountains.

Lucius let a memory slip into his thoughts. It was a memory that had returned to him over the summer, as he slept restlessly in prison. It was the memory of Voldemort's immortality.

In a moment, he pushed the memory away. If Voldemort were to simply suspect that Lucius had regained that memory, it would mean a swift death. No, Lucius couldn't think about it in public. In fact, it shouldn't even be accessible in public. And unfortunately, Lucius' own home had become very public.

He would hate to depart with the memory that had changed his life so much—but some things must be done for preservation. And ultimately, that was the only thing Lucius could hope for anymore. Freedom was a distant dream—preservation was his goal.

"And Wormtail," Voldemort continued. A small squeak was heard in the corner of the dining hall. Lucius had forgotten the rat was present. "I have a special job for you."

-0-0-0-

Sarah Sellers sat in her modest home drinking tea in her sitting room. She lived in Dragonsby, a magical village in southwestern Britain. It was a nice place to call home. With just enough happening to stay active, but not overwhelming.

She had led a difficult life, so she liked the peace of the town. Being a Detector came with its perks, certainly. She could _almost_ always decipher people's true intent. It was _nearly_ impossible to be deceived. And with _ninety nine_ percent certainty, Sarah knew who she could trust.

But these perks made life difficult for two reasons. First, very few people wanted to be around her. They hated being so exposed. Sarah remembered how the girls at Hogwarts hated her because there was no way to fool her. She knew what everyone truly thought of her, so they couldn't carry on their facades and backstabbing with her. When she met Harry Potter earlier, she once again felt that concern and fear radiating off of him. But Sarah smiled as she recalled Harry's honesty about his trepidation with her. She knew he would let her earn his trust. She hoped her article on Sirius Black would begin that trust-building process.

Sirius Black: the second reason being a Detector had given her a difficult life. The one man who had deceived her. Twice. The one man she thought she could trust and was wrong about. The man whose true intent was nearly always indecipherable.

Perhaps that's why she'd always been so attracted to him.

A knock came at the door, and Sarah jumped in surprise. Her tea sloshed around and a bit spilled onto the table. Who would come calling so late?

Holding her wand tightly, Sarah neared the door. She peered out the window and felt her hand loosen from around her wand in shock.

Abandoning all reason, she threw the door open quickly.

"You didn't say 'hi' earlier."

Sarah stared at the man responsible for much of her misery in life. "I didn't know what to say."

Sirius smiled softly. "You could say 'hi'."

"Hi."

They stared at each other for a moment, and Sirius allowed his emotions to radiate off of himself. At least, Sarah hoped that they were his true emotions. Insecurity, anger, hope.

"Thanks for the article you wrote about me. I know it couldn't have been easy."

"No," Sarah agreed. "But I felt like I owed it to you, for buying into the idea that you betrayed James and Lily for all those years."

Sirius looked down, his emotions masked again. "You don't owe me anything."

There weren't many people who could mask their emotions from a Detector. It wasn't a skill one could hone all that well. Dumbledore had done a pretty good job, considering he wasn't born with the gift. And it wasn't a skill that Sarah told people about. But Sirius Black had the ability, and it drove her crazy.

She recalled the first date he had taken her on all those years ago, where he masked his emotions the entire time. She was furious with him by the end of the night and started to yell at him. At that point he let out one powerful emotion—attraction.

"You show me a little," he had said after she questioned him, "and I'll give you a little. You know, like any normal couple."

Remembering this fond memory lit a fire in Sarah that she hadn't felt for years. She decided she needed to behave that way once more. "I missed you. The whole time you were away…I was furious with myself for it—after all, you had allegedly killed so many people you cared about. But I wished so often that things were back to the way they were before…"

Sirius was looking her in the eyes again. His fear and hope were shining through once more. "How could you have missed me? After all the things I did?"

"But you didn't do them!"

Shame gripped Sirius and Sarah felt it. "We both know what I did before James and Lily were attacked. And then…and then I was so selfish. I didn't think about you or Harry—all I wanted was to kill Peter, end his miserable existence. I deserved what I got!"

Sure, what he had done to her was appalling—but no one deserved the life that Sirius had gotten. And, feeling the terrible shame Sirius felt nearly caused Sarah to weep. She pulled Sirius inside her home, closed the door and hugged him fiercely.

"You did not deserve it, Sirius! And what you did to me—I…I forgive you."

Sirius pulled back from the embrace—shock and unbelievable joy emanating from his being as a lone tear fell down his cheek. "You…"

Sarah nodded. And Sirius questioned further. "But…you don't even know why I did it."

It was true. She and Sirius had been in love. Things had been moving such that she was expecting a ring…not a confession of a mistake.

"Sirius…you broke my trust twice. As it turns out, the second time was a lie. _I _was wrong. I didn't come and vouch for you, demand that you get a trial. I was so blinded by my hurt that I—"

"You had every right to!" Sirius interrupted. "Don't you dare blame yourself for any of this, or feel like you owe me forgiveness because of it."

Sarah nodded. "I know I don't owe it to you. But I want to give you my trust again. All these years, nothing has ever come close to the happiness you gave me."

Sirius let out a strangled sob and then he smiled. He still held her in his arms "I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you. But I never stopped loving you, Sarah."

And Sarah felt it. As if a dam was destroyed, Sirius let her feel all of his feelings for her. They would take hours to begin to understand, but the underlying emotion was true—and it was love.

Their lips met hungrily as the pair began a healing process after fifteen years.

* * *

**A/N: When I started this chapter, it was Ginny, not Ron, who first found Harry and talked with him about the prophecy. But as I was writing, it felt forced. Like I just wanted Harry and Ginny's relationship to progress, so I stuck them in this situation together. But the truth is that Harry has years of friendship with Ron and Hermione and a close familial bond with Sirius. It felt right that ****_they_**** should be the ones to first help Harry.**

**I still feel that Ginny is the best person to help Harry in these situations, but it needed to happen at the right time…which is not yet. But don't worry, it's soon!**

**Drop a review and let me know what you think!**


	9. Play How You Practice

**A/N: Thanks to the great reviewers of the past chapter. This chapter will earn its T rating for violence. My guideline, whether it be violence, language, or sexual situations, is always if I could see it in a PG-13 movie, then it's fair game in a T fic. If you have concerns about it, leave a comment of PM for me.**

**This is my favorite chapter up to this point! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.**

* * *

Chapter 8: Play How You Practice

"He's not mentally prepared, yet!"

"That is precisely why we give him this opportunity."

"He won't like it! He wants to make his own decisions!"

"Sirius, please calm down."

"How can I be calm when you are asking me to betray his trust?"

"We are _using_ his trust. It is for moments like this that trust is given. To make the decision that he _can't_."

-0-0-0-

The remaining weeks of summer passed all too quickly for Harry's liking. He chuckled to himself that he had never before been sad to have the summer draw to a close. Then again, Harry was not your typical teenager. Hogwarts awaited, for which Harry was grateful and excited. He could play Quidditch with the house team again, he could see his other, albeit less close, friends. He could teach the DA again, this time with permission and a little guidance from his teachers. There was a lot to be excited for, certainly.

But, when Harry reflected on the summer that he had had, he was sad to leave it behind. Three meals a day prepared by Mrs. Weasley, the closest person to a mother he could ever hope for. Hours of training with Sirius every day, as well as specialized lessons from Dumbledore, Moony, and Tonks. Morning runs and workouts with Ginny, whose supreme friendship was as rewarding as it was unexpected—and Harry was unsure of what would happen to it during the school year. Evenings spent with his two best friends, playing and learning together. It was a lot to leave behind.

The wizarding world was unfairly, but correctly, latching on to the idea of Harry Potter as their savior from Voldemort's increasing attacks. Between the Ministry's regrouped efforts and the Order's strength, Voldemort's attacks were being quickly snuffed out, with minimal damage being done to muggle Britain, and almost no damage done to wizarding Britain. Despite this, fear was growing. Voldemort was slowly gaining ground and followers. And as sick as it made Harry to have the responsibility, he was grateful there was hope for the people to grasp for, even if it was in a sixteen year old kid.

Harry's summer training had gone great, accomplishing most of the goals he, Sirius, and Dumbledore had set for him. His spell selection had broadened, his dueling skills had improved, and his instinct had been honed. Harry would be the first to admit he wasn't ready to join the Order on any missions, but he felt good about his ability. He could apparate, utilize more than basic transfiguration in fighting situations, and had developed a better understanding of potions and mind attacks during his sessions with Dumbledore working on Occlumency and immunity-building. Together with Remus, they were working on altering the Patronus based on his experience with Dementors on Ginny's birthday to deal more fatal blows to the demons. Finally, he had been strengthening his magical core daily by funneling some magical power into physical energy, thus enlarging the 'magic muscle,' as Tonks and he had called it during this experiment. They had come to the conclusion that it didn't drastically improve his magic muscle, but the extra seven hours he spent awake every other day was extremely beneficial, given his busy schedule.

"What are you thinking about?" Ginny asked him, startling him out of his thoughts.

Harry had almost forgotten she was there he was so lost in his reverie. He also hadn't realized he had subconsciously been doing his morning workout—but, panting heavily, with sweat beading down his bare chest, and his abs incredibly tired, it was apparent that he had. Harry looked over at Ginny and was surprised he could forget about her presence. She was tantalizing in her tight workout clothes and a sheen of sweat across her forehead and arms resulting from doing their abs routine. While she didn't have quite as intense a workout as Harry put himself through, Ginny was pushing herself more this summer than Harry thought she would. He was impressed and proud of her.

"Thinking about the great summer I've had," Harry said simply, with a smile. He sat up tenderly from his laying position to better talk with her.

"I'll say," Ginny said suggestively, glancing down at his bare chest. She winked at him.

Harry smiled slightly, and joined in the game they played often. He wasn't sure when it had started. Perhaps the day when they went swimming together, and he essentially told her that he found her attractive. Since then, they had escalated his compliment into a fun game of banter. "But mostly I couldn't think at all, Trouble," Harry continued, using the nickname he had given her earlier in the summer. "Doing those pushups earlier gave me a great view of your fine backside and turned off all thought I had." Harry leaned over, as if to get a better look at her butt from a different angle.

Harry could tell Ginny was fighting down a blush, but she continued on with great strength. "All this working out has done your own backside a lot of favors Harry. You've filled out nice and tight." At this pronouncement, Harry felt himself start to flush, but forced down the involuntary reaction to her brash compliment. He refused to lose to her again.

"Feel free to give it a squeeze if you're ever curious just how much it's filled out," he responded wath a waggle of his eyebrows.

Harry watched with satisfaction and a smug grin as Ginny's blush betrayed her and crept up her face. Harry was more than a little flattered that the notion of touching his backside had gotten her flustered. "You lose," Harry said with a wink.

Ginny glowered at Harry, and the blush slowly faded. "Shut it, Prat."

They soon began chatting amiably again as Harry put on his shirt and they headed back to the Burrow. Harry noticed that Ginny looked a little nervous about something. "What's on your mind?"

"We're going back to Hogwarts tomorrow…" Ginny trailed off.

"Yes, Ginny. Very good," Harry responded, like he was congratulating a two year old.

Ginny narrowed her eyes at Harry. "Shut it, Prat," she said again. Harry grinned at her, and Ginny rolled her eyes before continuing. "I was just wondering if you were going to keep running…or…"

Harry understood. Ginny had a fear similar to what Harry had. What would happen to their morning routine when they left the Burrow?

"I was…uh…hoping to. I mean, it will get cold, and we might…that is, _I_ might—unless you want to as well, of course—might have to use the Room of Requirement in the winter…"

_Smooth_, Harry thought to himself. _Way to hide that fear._

Fortunately, Ginny seemed to bumble just as much as him. "No, yeah…that's a great idea. And I would like to. Join you, I mean," Ginny added lamely, not looking up at Harry.

Harry saw another blush creep up her cheeks and shook his head in confusion. How was it that he could compliment her butt with confidence but was too insecure to ask her about their friendship and the time they would spend together at Hogwarts? Perhaps when he was joking with her he put up a bold and somewhat fake persona, and when that façade was broken down he really didn't know where he stood with the girl. He knew he really enjoyed her presence and companionship. He knew she was fun and smart, pretty and unique. He desperately wanted his friendship with her to continue to Hogwarts—but at the same time had to wonder if things would return to the way they were the previous year. Being in different years, and with Dean as her boyfriend, Harry didn't know if it would be all that easy to keep their friendship as strong as it had become this summer.

Harry also didn't know if he should find consolation or more fear in Ginny's own nervousness about the subject. Was she similarly afraid that their friendship might suffer? Or was she concerned that Harry _wanted _it to continue, and she just wanted to go back to her friends and boyfriend and the way things were?

"Well," Harry said, deciding to gauge how she felt at Hogwarts in a couple days. "After we get settled, we'll see if we can't find a schedule that works for us?"

Ginny looked back at Harry and smiled. "That sounds great, Harry."

Contented for the moment, they reached the Burrow and had breakfast before Harry headed to Grimmauld Place for his final day of summer training. When he arrived, Sirius looked noticeably anxious, but gave no reason for it. They simply walked to the training room and went through some normal exercises. When Sirius stopped Harry from exerting himself too much, Harry finally voiced his thoughts.

"What's up, Sirius?"

His godfather looked long and hard at Harry as if trying to decide something. Then, seemingly coming to a conclusion, he sighed and then spoke up.

"Well, first things first. Dumbledore and I…we've been talking about your training once you go back to Hogwarts…"

Harry nodded eagerly. He had broached the subject a few times with Sirius, but was never given a concrete answer as to what he would do. Sirius continued, "We want to continue your advanced training throughout the school year. I know you'll be busy with school, Quidditch, the DA, and I really feel terrible about taking what little free time you have left and asking you to come here…"

Harry raised his hand and interrupted him. "Sirius…it's fine. I'll manage. Besides, I think the training will help my schooling a lot, I've got a plan with the DA to free up some time there, and I turned down the captain position for the Quidditch team, so that won't become too much, either."

Sirius looked sadly at Harry. "This is so unfair. You should be worried about girls and pulling pranks, not dueling techniques and potion immunity."

Harry shrugged. "Life's unfair. At least I've got some control over it now."

At this thought, Sirius' face went pale. Harry tried to reassure him that he was fine, but Sirius was hard to console. It was odd, seeing Sirius so shaken over something that Harry would have suspected he would just laugh at and make light of.

"Sorry, Harry," Sirius said with more meaning than Harry thought the situation warranted. "I have some more news for you." Sirius put a smile on his face and Harry raised his eyebrows in anticipation.

"I am going to be your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor!"

Harry felt his face break into a wide smile as he grabbed his godfather in a hug. "That's great Sirius! Oh you'll be amazing! Snape must be furious…"

Sirius pulled back from the embrace and grinned widely, his previous concern gone for the moment. "Dumbledore was thinking about finally giving him the position, too! And then I suggested to Dumbledore that now that I've been cleared by the Ministry, I'd be a good candidate."

"You're a _great_ candidate!" Harry corrected, laughing at Snape's misfortune.

Sirius smiled a bit longer before getting visibly anxious again. "Anyway, Dumbledore and I think you've gotten too accustomed to training in the day time—after all, it'll be a few evenings each week that we come back here from now on. Mondays, Wednesdays, and a weekend day, depending on your plans for the weekend."

Harry nodded. "Sounds good to me."

"So, to prepare for that," Sirius said, looking down at his hands. "We are going to do a practice session tonight. Seven o'clock?"

Harry thought it a bit odd to switch for just the last day of training for the evening. It's not as though it would help much in the long run. But he kept his mouth shut, trusting his mentor. "Alright," Harry agreed. "So, should I go back to the Burrow until then?"

Sirius looked pretty broken up over something as he nodded and motioned Harry toward the stairs and out of the training room.

-0-0-0-

Remus knew he had no right to feel jealous. In fact, there were feelings of relief intermingled with his envy. But as he gazed on Henry Cooper flirting with Tonks, Remus felt a pang of loss.

"No way!" Cooper shouted loudly as Tonks transformed her face into a person Remus didn't know. "Professor Horton!"

"Now, Mr. Cooper," Tonks said in a rather strict voice that was not her own. "We don't need any more talk out of you."

Cooper pealed with laughter. "Oh, you have that voice down! Remember how she used to squint her eyes to see the kids in the back of the cl—YES!" He burst into even greater fits of laughter as Tonks finally broke out of character herself. Her face transformed back to her own, her hair returning to a vivid and lively pink. Remus thought she looked beautiful, her face so full of mirth.

It was mirth that he told himself he couldn't give her. Between his lycanthropy and their age difference, Remus was convinced they wouldn't work as more than friends, despite both of them being very attracted to the other. And while seeing her having so much fun with Cooper was painful, it reinforced his beliefs that he had made the right decision in telling her to move on.

Remus turned back to the frying pan and flipped the eggs. It was common for Order members to congregate at Grimmauld Place either before or after a mission. As it happened, Remus had just returned from a visit to the werewolf colony in the Forbidden Forrest, where he had successfully convinced over half of the group of twenty werewolves that joining Voldemort would only create more problems for their kind. Meanwhile, Tonks and Cooper were preparing to leave for the magical community of Hoofton to scout out its defenses and Death Eater activity. They had all arrived at Grimmauld place this morning and Remus had regrettably offered to make some breakfast for everyone.

"Wotcher, Harry!" Tonks said, interrupting Remus' train of thought. He turned to find Harry and Sirius walking into the kitchen.

"Good morning, beautiful," Harry said charmingly, kissing Tonks on the cheek. The two had grown close over the summer, as Tonks often helped in his training. Who better than an Auror right out of training to give some practical practice for the boy?

"Easy, Harry," Tonks laughed easily. "You'll have to fight through these two before you can get to me."

Remus and Cooper glanced uneasily at each other, frowns on their faces. But Tonks, in her infuriating and endearing way, marched right on through the awkward situation with a grin. "That being said, I wouldn't mind going for one so young and vivacious as yourself, Harry. What you may lack in experience, I'm sure you'd make up for with your endurance."

"Why do you think I've been running all summer?" Harry responded with a laugh. "To fulfill your every desire, of course."

Remus shook his head, sadly accustomed to their banter. It was more extreme, but easier to listen to, than Tonks and Cooper. For his part, Cooper looked shocked at the discussion he was hearing between Tonks and Harry Potter.

"And you've become quite the hottie, too, Harry." Tonks was apparently just getting started. "How are you going to keep the other girls off of you?"

"I guess you'll have to share, Tonksy…you don't mind, do you?" Harry grinned as Tonks made a disgusted face. "There's nothing else to do about it—not my fault I was born with such great looks."

"And others," Sirius piped in for the first time, eyes alight with mischief. "Have to rely on a magical ability to make themselves look good."

Tonks gave a low growl. "Easy, cuz…"

"You're just jealous because you can't hide that ugly mug of yours, Padfoot," Remus said, bringing the eggs over to Tonks' and Cooper's plates.

Tonks gave a beautiful laugh and flashed him a brilliant smile. He winked back at her. All the while, Remus noticed with some satisfaction that Cooper was not much a part of this conversation. _Serves him right for not joining a year ago_¸ Remus thought to himself bitterly. He knew he was being unfair, but it was hard to see Tonks enjoying someone else's company so much.

"Can I throw on a couple more eggs?" Remus offered to Harry and Sirius.

"No, I'm heading out already. The old man, here, can't keep up with me anymore."

Sirius glared at Harry good-naturedly before turning to Remus. "Or in other words, I'll have a few."

"I'll see you later, Padfoot. Moony, Tonks," and Harry hesitated before adding, "Coop, always a pleasure." Remus smiled to himself as Harry walked toward the fireplace to floo back to the Burrow. Harry was very much rooting for Remus to man up and tell Tonks how he felt. While Remus didn't agree with Harry, he was flattered to have Harry in his corner.

"Does he have any idea?" Tonks asked Sirius after the green fire took Harry away.

Remus cringed as he looked to Sirius for the answer. "No…he knows something is a little off. I couldn't help but let my emotions come through…"

There was silence as Remus cracked a couple more eggs into the hot frying pan. Cooper broke the silence. "What does Harry not know?"

Again, silence followed. Remus couldn't help but feel upset at Tonks for bringing it up. Luckily, Sirius covered easily. "I'll be the new Defense teacher at Hogwarts. Wanted to surprise him."

Cooper let out a sound of recognition. "Ah…congratulations!"

"Thanks," Sirius said solemnly.

-0-0-0-

"Sirius, don't be so nervous. It's just another training mission." Harry _really_ didn't know why Sirius was behaving so oddly today. It was starting to unnerve him, but he tried not to let it show.

"I know," Sirius said hurriedly. "But I just want you to get this one perfect, so go over the plans one more time."

Harry let out a sigh and walked through the plan for what felt like the fiftieth time. "We will go to the Ministry in secret, arrive at the Magical Transportation Department, and look at the records to see who authorized the Portkey to Azkaban."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Give me a little more detail. And use the map!"

"Fine," Harry said, pointing to the map of the sixth floor of the Ministry. "We exit the elevator here and move down this hallway. We need to be watching for notification wards and charms set by possible Death Eaters throughout the whole passage. Then when we arrive at the Office of Portkey Transportation, you will stand guard as I break in." Harry stopped and looked back at Sirius. "Why don't you come in with me?"

"You're underage and won't trigger the Ministry wards," Sirius answered quickly.

Harry let out a snort. In most of Harry's training missions, Harry would ask why he was doing the mission and not some other Order member. After all, it wasn't very smart to send a sixteen year old to take care of the important business they were emulating in the training room. Almost every time Harry asked the question, the answer was the same, 'You won't trigger the wards because you're underage.' Harry figured it wasn't all that likely that his being underage would ever be a blessing, but let them continue using it as an excuse anyway.

"Whatever," Harry said, and pressed forward. "Once inside, I locate the Portkey verification list to see who approved of the Portkey that got Voldemort to Azkaban." Harry paused and turned back to Sirius. "Two questions: First, how do we know the mole is the one who verified this and not an imperiused coworker? And second, Why not just send Kingsley in as an Auror to bust this guy?"

Sirius nodded, and to Harry's surprise had answers ready. Harry was impressed the he would have thought it through enough to come up with legitimate answers. "After the first war, with so many Death Eaters claiming to be under the Imperius curse, the Ministry starting weaving wards into a lot of their processes that prevent an imperiused employee from taking part in them. It's very complicated magic that has already proven useful in finding and helping these victims, and it is very difficult to undo.

"It is most likely that the mole we are looking for _has _imperiused his coworkers, but not to do his dirty work. He's controlling them to let him go about his business unhindered. Either that, or he just wipes their memory.

"As for Kingsley," Sirius continued. "He's checked it out and found nothing to be the matter."

"So why am I checking it?" Harry asked, annoyed at the obvious hole in the mission.

"Magic is capable of a lot, Harry. Even confounding great Aurors. Aurors have to go through the system, and therefore, become easy targets when dealing with internal affairs. All the mole would have to do is hit him with a confounding charm right before he checked the records. It's even possible to alter the records for a short amount of time before the spell wears off—just enough time for Kingsley to check that nothing was amiss."

Harry remained skeptical—but even with his limited schooling, he knew that it might be possible.

"Besides," Sirius added. "If the Aurors found out, the mole would be removed. If we find out, the mole will be watched and used against Voldemort."

"So the mission is one of stealth—trying to keep the mole in place."

Sirius nodded, but nervously explained, "But if it's between your safety and containing the mole, _always _chose your safety. Don't take stupid risks, Harry."

"Yea, yea," Harry said, waving his hand.

Sirius grabbed him. "I mean it! You perform how you practice so _never_ use the practice room as an excuse to be reckless."

Harry was again taken aback by Sirius' seriousness. Harry was always the one treating the simulations as if they were legitimate. Normally, Sirius would be joking around with Harry and would even encourage Harry to take some risks in order to learn. But apparently this mission was different…

"Alright," Harry said, warily. "Just in and out, safety first, nothing fancy; got it. I had expected that talk from you eventually."

Sirius flashed him a quick smile at his joke, but asked to review the mission one last time. After one final and quick run-through, Harry and Sirius stood up from the table. Sirius checked his watch and took a deep breath. He clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Ready?"

"Yup," Harry said, and felt the familiar pull at the navel that the training room always gave him. He felt some nerves flutter in his stomach. Although he had done many different training exercises and had almost always come out on top in the mission training, he still got a little nervous when he started.

He preferred these types of training exercises where Sirius would join him. He thought they worked very well together and it was fun to see his godfather in action beside him. He was so lost in thought about this that he didn't even realize the room had transformed already and they stood in the atrium of the Ministry. The statues that Dumbledore had transfigured and used in his battle with Voldemort had not returned, but the fountain was running. The room was dark just as it had been that night. The Ministry employees must have gone home. Harry spotted a clock on the wall and found that the time in the training scenario mirrored the actual time. That must have been a result of Sirius having checked his watch.

Harry looked over to where he was sitting when Voldemort had taken over his mind and body. It had hurt so badly. Glancing at Sirius' concerned expression, however, Harry realized he would much rather go through that physical pain again than the emotional pain of a loved one dying. Harry took a deep breath. "Come on," he whispered to Sirius.

As they passed by the fountain and made their way to the elevator, Harry decided while absentmindedly touching his scar, that perhaps that brief moment of intense pain was worth not having his scar hurt anymore. Like ripping of a Band-Aid, as he recalled from his childhood.

"You okay?" Sirius voice startled him.

"Yeah," Harry commented before realizing they were already in the lift and moving towards the sixth floor—Department of Magical Transportation. Harry's eyes darted to the control panel and his stomach lurched when he saw the Department of Ministries listed there. He felt a strange pull to go there—it was odd.

"You don't look focused," Sirius said anxiously. "You need to be focused. Should I call it now?"

Harry frowned at his godfather. "No, I'm fine. Just thinking about my scar. I'm focused now." Harry flashed him a smile. "Lighten up, yeah?"

Sirius let out a long breath and smiled. "You're right." The door opened as the lift came to a stop. A woman's voice announced their arrival, and the pair crept forward. They were in the main lobby. The room split off down three hallways. One led to the Floo Port Station, where Ministry employees could come to and leave work via the floo network. One hallway simply contained the offices of the Department head and her cabinet.

Harry raised his wand and muttered detection charms as he walked towards the third hallway, which led to the main workplace of the Department. He had never been on this floor before, but walked confidently thanks to the detailed maps provided by Tonks. Before they passed by the Apparation office, Harry and Sirius came to a stop as an orange glow appeared before them, visible thanks to the detection charms they cast.

"Standard Ministry alarm system," Sirius muttered softly. "Guess they don't want people breaking in and giving themselves Apparation Licenses."

Harry snorted. Like the one Kingsley had forged for him—ensuring that his name would never pop up as illegally apparating. Fortunately, Kingsley had also taught them how to break down these alarms so that they could pass by without alerting officials. After a minute of wandwork and incantation, the orange film shimmered and disappeared, leaving a clear path towards the Portkey office.

When they arrived, another orange film appeared from their detection spell in the area just surrounding the door, and they quickly dispersed it. Sirius nodded at Harry and he opened the door into the Portkey office. Casting another detection charm, Sirius revealed a red-hued aura in the doorframe.

"Those first alarms were to alert the DMLE that someone is here. These wards will tag anyone who enters and freeze them in place for days—or until someone releases them."

"Why don't we just cancel these wards, too?"

Sirius frowned. "It would take someone as talented as Bill Weasley a couple of days to bring this one down—and that time-constraint will clearly not work."

"Convenient," Harry said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at the excuses Sirius and Dumbledore would make to get him to train on his own and not—more realistically—with a team.

"It is _not_ convenient," Sirius said sharply. "You think I want you going in on your own?"

Harry chuckled. "Yes, Sirius. I do. Otherwise you wouldn't have designed the mission this way." Harry stepped forward through the ward that _apparently_ doesn't affect underage wizards. _What a load of bullocks_¸ Harry thought to himself.

Sirius let out a breath when Harry stepped through unhindered, but Harry didn't hear it. In fact, he could no longer even see Sirius. He waved his wand to remove the red aura of the ward, and when it vanished, he was shocked to see complete darkness where the hallway should have been. The door frame appeared to open to an eternal abyss, instead of the hall where Sirius stood on the other side. It was an odd sight, Harry thought. It was as if he were staring into a starless outer-space.

Fred and George had spent the past month working on Harry's two way mirrors, trying to find a way to make the communication concise enough to fit in Harry's ear. The previous day, they had given him and Sirius a prototype, which they tested and found worked wonders. Harry activated the object in his ear, but discovered that there was absolutely no communication with Sirius. _The ward must be interfering with it_, Harry thought.

He shrugged and turned around, taking in the Portkey office before him. In front of him stretched a large room with chairs resting back to back, forming a few rows. Harry figured this was where people would sit as they waited (likely for exorbitant amounts of time) to be helped by the Ministry workers. Separating this waiting area, from where the workers likely sat, stretched a long, wide desk from end to end. To Harry's right was a smaller room, an office where the Head of the division likely worked. Windows lined the room so Harry could see inside to a simply decorated office.

There were no other exits, which Harry was a little worried about. If Sirius decided to throw a wrench in the mission, which he usually did, Harry would need an escape route. With that in mind, Harry cast a few preparatory charms in place before hurrying over to the long desk in the main room. Harry jumped easily up on the desk and slid over to the other side. He walked along the desk, searching the open shelving for a book or log of sorts.

At the midpoint of the desk, Harry saw it. It was a simple book with a brown cover, with bold letters on the front dubbing it the Portkey log. _Sirius, you're making this a little too easy on me,_ Harry thought idly. Then again, if he was going for realistic, there would be no real reason for this log book to be hidden especially. Harry reached forward and grabbed the book. The second he touched it, his hair stood on end, and Harry felt the familiar twinge in the air of magic being released. Harry dropped the book to the ground immediately and knelt down next to it.

_Stupid,_ Harry berated himself. He cast a quick detection charm on the book, and, sure enough, an orange aura surrounded the book.

The mole had put a detection charm on the book—which meant at least one Death Eater was coming soon. Given that this Death Eater worked in this office, he would likely have a Portkey always ready to take him straight here—and no wards would keep the employee out.

Harry popped his head above the desk and scanned the room. Empty. Harry had two options—abandon the mission and get out before the Death Eater arrived, or try to get the information he needed first and then get out, hoping the Death Eater was delayed for some reason.

Having no time to weigh his options, Harry went with the choice that anyone named Harry Potter would make: finish the mission. He cast a quick alert charm in the room and knelt back down by the book.

He opened it first to see the last page with notes in it. He scanned the list quickly to accustom himself with how the log was kept. He was initially surprised to find his godfather's name in the log for the previous day.

Sirius Black From ? to Ministry of Magic August 29 Ceto Monroe

_Why would Sirius put this in the log?_ Harry shook his head, not willing to let Sirius' weird tricks mess with his mission. Ceto Monroe was an employee, though, and possible suspect according to the briefing. He fanned through the pages quickly, watching the date tick lower and lower on each page until it rested on Ginny's birthday—the day of the Dementor attack.

Mark Rodgers From ? to Azkaban August 11 Mark Rodgers

Harry narrowed his eyes. Mark Rodgers. He was one of the six employees who worked here. Harry tried to remember the mission briefing better, wracking his brain. He saw in his mind a picture of Mark Rodgers that Sirius had laid out on the table while briefing him. Mark wasn't just an employee. He was the boss.

Harry's eyes widened—he hadn't cast the alarm on the small office.

Harry conjured a mirror and held it above the desktop, angling it to look at the office. Sure enough, the door was open, a maskless Death Eater standing in the doorway, waving his wand in the same way Harry had for the detection charm. He then waved his wand again, and Harry guessed he removed the alarm from the room.

Harry lowered his hand from behind the desk. He reached into his robes pockets and pulled out both his invisibility cloak and the stealth cloak Tonks had given him for his birthday. As quietly as he could, he pulled on the stealth cloak and was relieved when his movements and breathing stopped making noise. Then he pulled his invisibility cloak over his bulky layers of clothing.

Harry stood slowly and peered over the table top. The Death Eater had cast a silencing charm on his feet, but Harry could hear the man breathing lightly as he neared the table about ten feet down from where Harry now stood. Harry edged in the opposite direction and lifted himself up on the desk, still undetectable. Mark Rodgers' head seemed to jerk at his movements, however, and Harry had to wonder what time of magic signature the two cloaks would give off together. Mark had reached the desk and was peering over the top of it, wand raised. As Harry dropped on the other side, he noticed Rodger's eyes widen at the book's placement on the ground instead of the shelving under the desk.

Rodgers spun around and cast a locking charm on the door. Then he touched his wand to his left forearm. Harry froze in place when a second and third Death Eater appeared in the room.

Harry knew he had to act fast. He could only take one by surprise before they figured out how he was hidden and found a way around their disadvantage. He ran at Mark Rodgers, he being the closest of the three, and sent a strong bludgeoning curse at him. A stunner was too easily countered by a teammate—he would be facing three again if he left it at a simple stunner.

By the time the spell left Harry's wand, he was just a few feet from Rodgers. There was no way _any_ human could react and put up a shield in the short time it took the curse to reach Rodgers' legs. Harry heard a sickening _crack_ as both legs snapped and Rodgers was sent flying into the desk behind him. He flipped as his lower body hit the desk and his head swung sharply down onto the desk top like a catapult's arm being released. Another _crack _was heard and Harry froze as he realized the man's skull had just cracked from the impact.

Unfortunately, Harry's concern at having just mortally wounded the enemy gave the other Death Eaters enough time to assess the situation. Harry dove behind the desk as they shouted curses and charms in his general direction, still not knowing where he was. Despite being invisible, Harry crawled on all fours behind the desk as loud explosions erupted behind him. They were tearing the desk to shreds. Harry let out a scream that no one heard as a piece of wooden shrapnel lodged painfully in his left leg just above the inside of his knee. Fortunately, the shrapnel had found its way to his leg from the opening in the bottom of the robes, so they were left intact.

Harry stood up shakily, realizing he needed to be able to see better if he wanted to protect himself.

The Death Eaters were talking now—which was not a good sign. If they worked together, it would make fighting much more difficult. Especially on just one leg.

One Death Eater continued to lay down fire while the other started waving his wand silently. Harry had to throw up an invisible shield to protect from pieces of desk and stray spells, all while trying to discern what the other Death Eater was doing.

He was muttering a charm to reveal disillusionment, Harry noted while ducking a purple hex thrown over his right shoulder. They had caught on and would soon find out his true source of stealth. Harry made to cast a protection charm on his cloak, but he was too late.

"Accio invisibility cloak," he heard, over his own incantation. Harry was lifted into the air by his summoned cloak and had started over the desk before he managed to slip the cloak off. The last thing he needed was to land, hand-delivered into the Death Eater's arms. He dropped to the ground on the other side of the desk silently, but now visibly.

With the floating cloak giving him just a moment of obscurity, Harry waved his wand, activating the preparatory charms he had placed earlier. Two rows of chairs lifted immediately in the air, stacking on two other rows of chairs, which left a protected aisle running straight to the only exit.

With both Death Eaters to his left, Harry took off at the fastest speed he could go on his gimp leg. He put up a shield to his left as he ran down the chair-hallway. It was fortunate he had, because a powerful bludgeoning charm hit the chair immediately behind him and on his left. The force picked him up and sent him flying bodily into the chairs on the right.

Shaken, but otherwise unharmed, Harry quickly utilized his last remaining advantage—silence. He cast a hex he had learned his first year at Hogwarts—the popping hex—halfway between himself and the door. Noises that sounded vaguely like footsteps—at least in a fast paced battle—issued forth about ten feet ahead of Harry, and this prompted another volley of curses from the Death Eaters.

Harry jumped backwards to the hole created by the first curse and shot two quick stunners at the Death Eaters' sides. One turned in time to deflect the stunner, but the other was caught, dropping quickly to the ground.

Harry began an immediate barrage of spells at the other Death Eater, knowing if he gave him just a second to revive his companion, Harry would not win.

Harry was a great duelist after his summer of training. He had defeated Sirius a handful of times, and had even twice stumped the Death Eater in the training scenario that was powered by Dumbledore's mind and magic—although admittedly not his instinct.

However, on just one leg, Harry was absent one of his greatest strengths in a duel—speed and agility. Instead, Harry was fighting a Death Eater with more spell knowledge and theory, and possibly more power, than he had. Therefore, he had to act fast before the Death Eater figured him out.

Harry had the fortune of having the Death Eater on the defensive since he had cast the first spell. But after sending several different curses and hexes, Harry knew he couldn't break down the man's shield. He went with the tactic that had defeated Sirius the first time.

Harry sent two more stunners, each of different strength, speed, and magical properties. He marked, chagrined, that the Death Eater successfully put up two different shields necessary to block these different stunners. The first stunner, a slow, blue curse, collided with the Death Eater's blue shield and both dissipated immediately. The second stunner, being much faster, followed just behind, and Harry was impressed despite himself at the Death Eater's speed, but it was deflected with a simple flick of the man's wand.

Before the spell had hit the wall behind him, however, several chairs were hurtling through the air at Harry's enemy. He sent a powerful wave of energy at the chairs sending them in all directions. Harry used the time this bought him to perform a trick he learned from Sirius. Out of Harry's wand issued a red flame, dancing its way quickly towards the Death Eater. Harry prayed the man would try to use this moment to turn on the offensive and take control of the fire instead of simply blocking it.

Harry allowed himself to smile as he noticed the wand movements of the Death Eater, as he attempted to take control of the fire element and send it back at Harry, who was sending a second flame at the Death Eater.

The masked man realized too late that Harry's first spell was not actually fire, but some sort of liquid disguised as fire. He was splattered from head to foot in kerosene. He looked up from his soaked robes just in time to see the following flame hit him and ignite.

Harry had heard horrible noises—such as the Dementor shriek, or Dudley's whiny voice asking for another sweet—but not much had been worse than this man's howl into the air. His body fell to the ground in a futile attempt to stifle the flames, his wand already destroyed by fire. Harry took pity on the man quickly, utilizing his control on both spells to vanish the cause of the great pain.

While the screaming stopped, the whimpering began, and Harry looked on in revulsion at the man's burned face and hands. He had managed to pull of his burning mask, but not before it had done significant damage. His robes were also burned, and Harry could see many patches of bloody and burned skin through the tattered clothing.

He turned his head back to Mark Rodgers for the first time, and saw that he was most surely dead. Blood pooled under his head and was flowing off of the table, past his mangled legs, and onto the ground.

Harry shuddered, his hands shaking. Never before had any of the training scenarios ended so grotesquely. He had killed Death Eaters in scenarios before—always accidentally like with Rodgers—but that had generally signaled the end of the training, so he never had to deal with the visual aftermath.

He glanced at the other Death Eater, unconscious on the ground. His instinct told him he needed to get the two live Death Eaters into the officials' custody, or at least to Sirius. But he was getting ready to vomit at the smell of the burnt skin in the air, so instead he summoned the mask of the unconscious Death Eater and memorized his face.

Harry limped towards the door, breathing hard—not out of exhaustion, but in anxiety. He went to turn the doorknob, but it was locked, and Harry let out a little whimper. He just wanted out. Hastily casting an unlocking charm, Harry opened the door and walked through the dark abyss and into the hallway of the Department of Magical Transportation.

If it were not for the great pain in his leg or the terrified expression on Sirius' face, Harry would have thought it odd how from the hallway, nothing seemed amiss. But just inside that door was a warzone. Harry vaguely heard Sirius saying his name and asking if he was alright. But Harry could still smell the burned flesh and see the broken body of his victims. He nodded absentmindedly in his fog and asked blurrily for Sirius to end the training scenario. Sirius took off his stealth cloak and Harry asked again to end the scenario.

But he didn't; instead, Sirius cast a quick pain-numbing charm on Harry's leg. He then put Harry's arm around his shoulder and walked with him towards the lift.

The further from the crime scene Harry got, the clearer his mind became. Why wouldn't Sirius just end the training? Why was it so important to act like this was real up to the last moment? Why was Sirius mumbling "I'm going to kill him" under his breath?

Soon they were at the fountain again, and Sirius pulled a ring out of his pocket. He told Harry to hold on to it, and Harry felt a pull at his navel.

Then it all clicked.

Why Sirius had moved the training to the nighttime, and why the training time matched reality. Why Sirius was acting scared and strangely all day, nervous for Harry's safety despite it being in the training room. Why Sirius had been wearing the ring earlier and clapped him on the shoulder just before they were Portkeyed to the Ministry. Why the Portkey was registered in the logbook. Why Sirius hadn't ended the scenario already.

That Harry had just carried out a real mission. That Harry had just failed to do so in secret. That Harry had just fought three real Death Eaters. That Harry had defeated them. That Harry had burned one so badly the scars would never disappear. That Harry had killed Mark Rodgers.

Harry's feet landed in the training room. The world spun around him. He bent over and retched. He breathed deeply before a second wave hit him and he vomited again.

He fell to the ground, barely holding himself in sitting position taking deep breaths. He vaguely heard Sirius moaning an apology as he rushed up the stairs. The world had stopped spinning and Harry had gotten his breathing under control when Sirius reappeared, Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey in tow.

He was soon on a stretcher and his leg healed quite nicely. It was all a blur, really. But then, his mind caught up with his surroundings at last. Madam Pomfrey had left with a simple demand that he drink a potion she put in his hands.

"How dare you," Harry growled at the two men who looked at him.

"Harry…" Sirius started.

"NO!" Harry shouted back, throwing the potion against the wall. It shattered, spraying purple liquid all over the wall and floor. "You had no right!"

"I know!" Sirius moaned pitifully. "You could have died!"

Outraged, Harry continued shouting. "_I_ could have died? You think I care about the danger to me? I…" Harry faltered. If he said it out loud, it would be real. His shouting stopped. "I…I killed a man."

Sirius eyes widened. It was not a look of disappointment or shame. But of sadness.

Dumbledore spoke at last. And Harry stared defiantly into his eyes. "Harry, your godfather did not want to do this. It was _my _idea."

"But he didn't stand up for my right to live _my_ life! How could you deceive me like this? Everything you said in your office last term—did you mean any of it?"

Dumbledore looked back at Harry. Last term he had looked apologetic. Right now, he looked determined. "Last term, I meant every word. And I mean every word now. You were ready for this mission, as your performance demonstrates. The only thing that would have stopped you from succeeding tonight was your own doubt. We removed that doubt."

Harry shook his head angrily at his Headmaster. This man whom he had grown to trust throughout the summer. They worked on occlumency together, and Dumbledore had begun teaching him advanced transfiguration dueling, and discussing the potential methods of Voldemort's immortality. Dumbledore had been open about everything in the Order and the war…and now this?

"Removed doubt?" he asked incredulously. "Now _all_ I have is doubt! Doubt in you two. Doubt for my own conscious. I killed a man today, Dumbledore. I never would have done that if I'd have known—and now I've got to live with that for the rest of my life!"

Dumbledore opened his mouth as if to speak, but seemed to think better of it. Then he slowly opened his mouth again. "Harry, I wish to continue this conversation at a later day. You will tell us exactly what happened, and then go back to the Burrow. You have a long trip ahead of you tomorrow—and I want you to be well rested."

Harry glowered at the man and scoffed. "Well rested. You think I'll sleep tonight?"

* * *

**A/N: I started out this story firmly of the mindset this would not be a DumbledoreBash fic. I stand by that. Don't you think it would take an ****_awful_**** lot to convince Sirius to go along with this? After all, you just get a brief taste of their conversation leading up to the "betrayal." Feel free to let me know what you think of their actions, but I ask you to reserve final judgement for a while yet. His actions will become more and more clear throughout this story.**


	10. Discussion and Deduction

**A/N: I'm grateful for the feedback for the last chapter-the opinions regarding Dumbledore and Sirius were mixed, and sometimes extreme. This chapter will help add another point of view, but there is a larger power at play than we've truly seen yet.**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter; it marks an important step in Harry and Ginny's relationship.**

**-0-0-0-**

Chapter 9: Discussion and Deduction

"Well, who was it?"

"I don't know, my Lord. He got by the wards without even taking them down—I don't know who could've done that."

"And you didn't see him?"

"No…he was in an invisibility cloak and then behind cover. But he was good."

"Yes, your dead and fried companions can attest to that, Harton."

"So…what now?"

"We proceed. We make it seem as though Rodgers was our only plant in the Ministry. It's a pity…"

"Yes, my Lord. Rodgers was talented."

"No…a pity that this mystery man killed him, so I couldn't."

-0-0-0-

She couldn't ignore the feeling anymore. Something nagged at her, and she knew she wouldn't be able to fall asleep until she found out what it was. Rolling out of bed silently—so as to not wake Hermione—Ginny crept to her door and slid into the hallway.

She walked downstairs, uncertain if this is where she needed to go. One look into the sitting room told her she had found the source of her discontent sitting on the couch, gazing into the fire. His eyes seemed lifeless, despite the fire's glow lighting them up.

Ginny remembered the last time she saw him with that look on his face. He had come to visit them in the Hospital Wing shortly after the Department of Mysteries fiasco. Even when he was feeling like hell he had come to see how they were. That's when Ginny knew she had merely buried her feelings for him, and not gotten over him. He was so selfless and loving—despite everything.

But the look he had on his face then—guilt, pain, torment—it was back now, as he stared morosely into the fire.

She tried to make noise as she approached him so that she wouldn't frighten him. But he was so lost in whatever painful reverie he was in that he didn't notice her until she rested a hand on his shoulder, softly saying, "Harry."

Before Ginny could blink, Harry was out of the couch, spun around, his wand pointed right between her eyes. It seemed to dawn on both of them at the same time what had happened. While Ginny was tempted to laugh and try to make light of the situation, Harry's reaction told her that would not be the course to take this evening.

Harry's eyes widened in fear and then disgust as he dropped his wand. It clattered to the floor and Harry let out a strangled sob as he backed up a couple of steps.

Ginny immediately stepped around the couch and took Harry in her arms. She had no idea what had happened or what he was going through. But she wouldn't leave his side until she had helped him in some way.

After what felt like hours, but was likely a minute or two, a hyperventilating Harry finally wrapped his own arms around her and let out steadying breaths. Ginny knew he wasn't crying, but he was doing the next closest thing Harry Potter would ever do to crying. His body was shivering slightly and she felt him squeeze her tighter, as if begging for some of her strength.

Minutes passed and finally he released her. He wouldn't look her in the eyes. "I'm sorry, Ginny. I don't want you to have to see me like this."

Ginny was actually touched that she had seen him like this, and that he hadn't shut her out immediately.

She still held onto his arms and looked up at his eyes, even if he wouldn't look back. "Please don't be sorry, Harry. You may not want to be seen like this, but I want to be here for you when you are."

He finally looked down at her. "Thanks," he said softly.

Then, without words, they both moved to the couch and sat down.

Ginny waited. She was still holding one of his hands, needing him to know she was there with him. Ready to give strength and encouragement if he would receive it. After some time, Harry ended the silence.

"What would you think of me, Ginny, if I killed a man?"

There it was. Ginny could not have been more surprised. Not at _what_ his admission was, but that he had done so with such bluntness.

"Well, Harry," she responded, wanting to choose her words carefully, but not wanting Harry to think she was walking on eggshells. She would be honest. "It certainly depends on the circumstances…but because I know you as well as I do, then I am certain it wouldn't change my opinion of you at all."

Harry looked at her, shocked. "What?"

Ginny tightened her grip on his hand, needing him to understand her. "Harry, you are the most pure and loving guy I've ever met—and I have six amazing brothers and a father who would take that title from anyone else in the world. If you were to kill someone, I have no doubt that it was because of the war we are in and circumstances outside your control."

Harry looked away, a faraway expression on his face. Ginny waited.

"But it doesn't change the fact that _I _did it…"

No more pretense. He admitted it.

"And that doesn't change the fact that you and I are both here. The fact that you are this broken up about it is proof of your devotion to what's right. The fact that I'm here, Harry," she said, reaching up and guiding his face back to looking at her. "It shows that in no way do I judge you or think less of you for it."

Silence. "It was an accident, wasn't it?"

Harry nodded.

Ginny swallowed. She knew she was risking making the situation worse by bringing this up. But it felt right. "You realize that you've done this before? Accidentally killed someone?"

Confusion crossed Harry's face. "Twice, sort of…" Ginny said. "Ron told me about Quirrell."

The confusion disappeared and Harry looked startled back at Ginny. "Wow…I guess you're right."

Ginny swallowed. "And then there was Tom…"

Harry's eyes widened in response. Despite talking daily for the entire summer, the Chamber never came up. "Yea…but he wasn't really alive, was he?" Harry asked tentatively.

Ginny knew he didn't mean it to hurt her, and she had to remind herself that she was supposed to be comforting him at this moment. Yet, she still responded softly, "He felt pretty alive to me."

Harry cringed and reached forward with his free hand to hold her arm. "Gin, I'm so sorr—"

"No," Ginny interrupted. "Don't be. I…I just want you to understand something, Harry. When I was lying there in the Chamber, I wasn't unconscious."

Ginny had never told anyone this before. It terrified her to remember it. But if she could tell anyone, it was Harry, who was currently looking at her with worried eyes. "At least not in the traditional sense. It was more like that moment where you can feel yourself drifting to sleep, but stretched out over hours. Every minute I felt my thoughts get more jumbled, my mind becoming less clear, my body becoming weaker. At first I was very aware of my beating heart and breathing, but by the time you had arrived, my mind was a swirling mess and I couldn't create a coherent thought or observation.

"You see, Harry, he was draining me of life. So believe me when I tell you he was alive—because it was my life he was using. He picked up your wand," Ginny said, recalling when Harry had told the story to her family and Dumbledore. "He spoke with you, he could use magic.

"And then you killed him Harry, and in doing so gave me life again."

Ginny waited for a reaction, but his face was just a jumble of emotions.

"Now, I'm not saying it's our right to be judge and jury, Harry. But what happened in that Chamber before the war started is now a prime example of what every battle in this war is like. Sometimes death happens when we are fighting for each other. It's not pleasant, and the moment we cheer at taking someone's life away we are no better than _him_. But that doesn't mean it's not the right thing to do sometimes."

There was more silence. Ginny vaguely heard the fire crackling, but was too lost in her thoughts and concern to pay it any attention. Harry looked down at his hands and after a few moments, he spoke. "I think it's hitting me particularly hard because I know it won't be the last time. You're right..it's war. Plus…"

Ginny felt like he wanted to tell her, despite trailing off. So she prodded him. "Plus?"

"I've got to kill him, Ginny. The prophecy…it said it's going to be me. Well, one of us will kill the other."

On the one hand, this information was terrifying. On the other hand, it was entirely expected by Ginny, who had assumed as much the second they stopped in front of the orb in the Department of Mysteries.

"And when you do it, Harry, you will once more by giving me life—along with the whole wizarding world." Ginny spoke with confidence, because she _was_ confident in Harry.

Harry's eyes darted up at hers. "You're not…surprised, scared by it?"

Ginny smiled warmly at him. "Surprised? Not a bit. I'd be lying if I said this didn't worry me a little, though. But not because I think there's a chance you'll fail. You killed a basilisk and a teenage Voldemort when you were twelve. I have no doubt you will succeed again."

Harry let out a long breath. "Ginny…I just have to level with you, here. I don't want to put this burden on you at all, but I…feel like I need to."

The way Harry was shifting anxiously on the couch, Ginny had a strange suspicion that the root of his consternation this evening was not that he had killed someone, but what he was about to confess to her. "I think it's about time you share your burden, Harry. Instead of carrying everyone else's. Please, go on."

Harry shook his head softly. "I don't know why…maybe I'm just desperate to understand what has just happened…"

Ginny waited patiently. Seemingly coming to the conclusion that it didn't matter why he was opening up to her so long as he could understand better, Harry continued. "As you know, I've been training with Sirius and Dumbledore all summer."

Ginny couldn't help but hear a little anger when he spoke his mentors' names, and that shocked her. But she kept quiet, expecting she would find out shortly.

"They developed a room similar to the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts—except designed for dueling practices and even mission training that Order members might do."

Ginny nodded, fascinated. Of course, given the prophecy, it made sense that they were trying to give Harry as much preparation as possible. Harry took a long breath and forged on. "Tonight…they led me to believe I was in a training program—a mission to the Ministry, actually. As it turns out, the simulation was reality."

Ginny felt her jaw drop. Then anger started to flow through her being. "They let you go on a dangerous mission under the pretense that it was fake!" Ginny whispered furiously. "What if you had gotten hurt or died because you thought it was fake and took unnecessary risks?"

Ginny assumed that Harry had been thinking the same thing, and that she was empathizing with him. But Harry's response was curious. "Nah, that wasn't too much of a concern for them, I'm sure. I've never taken a mission lightly—always convincing myself they were real and not doing anything stupid.

"Sure, as it turns out, I _was_ in a lot of danger…but because of my training and instinct, I made it out just fine. Just not before…" Harry trailed off, and Ginny realized what had happened. He had killed someone—a Death Eater most likely. But because he was under the false pretense that it was fake, the death he caused wasn't planned or thought through at all. He had just killed someone, quite unceremoniously. Knowing Harry as she did, this likely caused him to feel more guilt than he would have otherwise.

"So, you're feeling betrayed because they put you in a position to cause real pain without you even knowing it?" Only Harry would be more upset about unwittingly causing pain than feeling it.

Harry, who had been staring into the flames again, looked back at Ginny sharply. "Yeah…exactly."

"Harry, I need you to know that what you did—whatever you did—it is part of war." Ginny leaned down and picked up Harry's wand, forgotten on the ground where he had dropped it. "You don't have to be happy about it, but you can't let it destroy you, either!" She handed the wand back to him.

Harry slowly reached out and with a sigh took his wand back. "Yeah…I think I get that. Like you said about Tom, sometimes death happens in battle when we're fighting for our lives." Harry paused, and Ginny could tell he was still very concerned about something as he looked at his wand thoughtfully. "But how could they do that? Why would they do that to me?"

Ginny knew he wasn't talking about any Death Eaters he had faced—he was talking about Dumbledore and Sirius. At Harry's imploring tone, Ginny realized he wasn't asking rhetorically, either. He really wanted to know—he _needed_ to know—why these men whom he had trusted would betray him.

"Harry…I want you to know before I say anything that I don't agree with what they did. Although my reasons are because I think it's foolish to put you in any unnecessary danger."

Harry nodded, but looked hopeful that she had some sort of answer for him. "But?"

Ginny thought for a moment. "Did you ever take any music lessons as a child? Or anything hard that was rewarding, really?"

Harry shook his head after thinking for a moment. And at that gesture, Ginny realized where Harry was coming from. She cursed the Dursley's for their lack of affection and love for the boy yet again.

Squeezing Harry's hand to assure him she meant no ill will, Ginny explained, "Well, when you grow up with parents or guardians who you trust, they will often make hard decisions for you. It can be infuriating, but for the most part, it's for your own good—because they've experienced life more and they understand what you need."

Harry nodded, but still looked a bit confused. "For example," Ginny continued. "When I was six, my mum got my oculin from Aunt Muriel. She can play a little, and knows all about music theory, so she would give me little lessons, and then tell me to practice. But I didn't want to—I hated it!"

Harry looked shocked. "But you said you loved it. You sound amazing, and the images you can generate are beautiful!"

Ginny smiled, blushing a little. "Thank you, Harry. And that's my point, I guess. Mum knew the end result because she had experienced it. So, even though I hated practicing the oculin at the time, my mum knew it was worth it, and made the choice for me."

Harry thought about this for a moment. He seemed to be warring with himself. "But she didn't deceive you…"

"Well," Ginny said with a slight smile. "She _did_ tell me that if I practiced every day until I went to Hogwarts and still didn't like it, she'd buy me a brand new broom. I was convinced at the time that I would hate it, so I took her up on the offer, thinking I'd trick her. As it turned out, she had tricked me into practicing."

Harry allowed himself to smile, but still looked troubled.

"Look, Harry—the experience doesn't compare exactly to what you've just gone through. Again, I don't even agree with what Dumbledore and Sirius did—but I'm just suggesting that they made a choice for you, knowing that you might not be able to. And I have to ask, would you have chosen to go on the mission?"

Harry stayed silent.

"And if you _had_ gone and knew it was real, would you have behaved in such a way that would have ruined the mission? Would you have killed the Death Eater if it was necessary? Or did Dumbledore and Sirius make that decision so that you didn't have to yet?"

More silence followed. The fire had dimmed considerably. Small flames were kept alive by a portion of a large log mostly exhausted of its fuel. But the fireplace was still hot from the coals that rested there. Ginny began to grow nervous that she had overstepped her bounds. After all, she was working on a lot of assumptions here. But Harry had seemed too broken over his mentors' betrayal for her not to try to help. And who wouldn't be broken over something like this? If she could mend that wound just a little, it was worth Harry being a little upset with her.

At last, however, Harry broke the silence. "You're an amazing friend, Ginny."

She tore her eyes from the fire to find him looking at her with a very sincere and pointed look. His face had lost much of the guilty and haunted look that it had housed just minutes earlier. Instead, she suddenly became very aware of how piercing those green orbs were, and how close he was to her. It instantly dawned on her that she had been holding his hand for a very long time. Up until this point, she hadn't even thought about it—it was just the natural thing to do when comforting someone.

"I…I just hope that I helped…" Ginny responded, suddenly nervous now that he had redirected the conversation to her. He leaned in to wrap her up in a strong hug, and Ginny smiled. Even though she felt very strongly for Harry—feelings that she could not deny were stronger than simply friendship—Ginny would gladly be just friends with Harry for her whole life if it meant she could help him like this. Be the amazing friend that he had just christened her.

As Harry whispered a few more words of gratitude, and Ginny responded with words of comfort, she made a conscious decision never to let her fantasies or unreciprocated feelings get in the way of being there for Harry. She would always care for Harry in that way—but she believed they would always be one-sided feelings. So she would bury them down, move on the best she could, and give her relationship with Dean a fair chance when they got back to Hogwarts.

Harry and Ginny spent at least another hour sitting on the couch talking that night. Harry, having already shared his biggest secrets of the night, decided to open up to her further. Ginny was happy to listen and learn more about the boy she cared for so much.

"I guess tonight just made it so real, you know?" Harry said after explaining how much fun he had been having over the summer with his godfather. "I guess I got so caught up in the training, I had forgotten _why_ I was training. And they saw that, and gave me a rude awakening."

Ginny snorted. "I'll say…how are you feeling about it now?"

Harry sighed. "I don't know…and I suspect I won't know how I feel about it for a while. But after talking to you, I can at least _understand_ what they were thinking to some degree. And…if I'm being honest…the thought that I have _someone_ force me to practice the oculin sounds nice," Harry said, referencing Ginny's metaphorical comparison to his situation. He then smiled wryly. "It's just that with Harry Potter, things are never that simple."

They sat side by side, staring into the fire, which was now just glowing charcoal. Ginny leaned her head on Harry's shoulder and closed her eyes lightly, realizing for the first time how tired she was. "You can say that again," she commented through a yawn.

Harry yawned shortly after her and slouched into the couch so that he could tilt his head back and close his own eyes. Soon, they had fallen asleep.

-0-0-0-

Molly Weasley hated the day of the Hogwarts Express trip. First, it signaled the last time she'd see her children until Christmas—and over three months was a long time for Molly to go without her youngest children. Second, and the more stressful reason, was how utterly hectic the morning was every single year. _You would think we would learn_, Molly thought to herself and she threw on some robes and left her room loudly, hoping to wake her husband.

Molly was determined to set the day off right and reduce the amount of stress at least a little bit. Therefore, she was up early to cook breakfast. In fact, she guessed that Harry and Ginny wouldn't even be awake for their morning run for another half hour. At the thought of her youngest daughter and Harry, Molly smiled. She saw what was happening. It wouldn't be long before she had to keep an eye on them for reasons other than their safety.

Molly had made her way down the stairs and was about to walk into the kitchen when something caught the corner of her eye in the sitting room. She could see a mess of black hair from the back side of the couch. Molly smiled sadly, wondering why the boy had slept in the sitting room. She crept silently over to the couch, trying not to wake him.

When she arrived, however, it took all of her presence of mind not to gasp and let out a noise of surprise. As if they had foreseen Molly's thought process of needing to watch these two, Harry and Ginny had spent the night together! Ginny was resting peacefully on the boy's shoulder. Molly felt her face heat up as anger began to overwhelm her. Fortunately for the two teenagers sleeping peacefully, Molly made one last observation before her anger gave her tunnel vision.

Both occupants of the couch were fully clothed. Ginny was in her pajamas, but they, along with her hair, didn't look all that mussed—which would have been sure signs of some extracurricular activity. Harry wasn't even in his pajamas, but in the same clothes he had worn when he left for Grimmauld Place the night before.

Molly's anger redirected from the slumbering kids on her couch to Albus and Sirius. What were they thinking, taking a mere _boy_ and training him like he was an Auror. It was unacceptable! And after the way he put himself in danger at the Dementor attack, Harry was starting to believe it, too. It just wasn't fair that he be put through so much as a child. And as if on cue, Harry let out a contented sigh—one that a boy gives, not an Auror.

As Molly's anger dissipated and curiosity replaced it, she determined that nothing had happened between the two—yet. Molly's guess was that Ginny had come down for a drink of water at the same time that Harry had gotten home. They had started chatting and got really tired because of the late hour.

In fact, if she wasn't mistaken, they would be very embarrassed when they woke up in this position. Feeling generous, Molly decided not to add to the embarrassment of being present when they woke. She quietly made her way back to the kitchen, but not before pulling out one of Fred and George's extendable ears from her pocket. Yes, she was actually very proud of her boys and the success they were having, and had even bought a few of their items.

Molly made her way to the kitchen and pulled some pots and pans out of some cupboards much more loudly than she normally would have at this early hour. She listened closely through the extendable ear as Harry and Ginny woke.

"Oh, good morning…" came Harry's voice, and sure enough, it sounded a bit uncomfortable.

"Yeah…sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep on you like that…" Ginny sounded no surer of herself.

Harry's voice came back, reassuring. "No, I don't think I would've been able to fall asleep otherwise—thanks for the company."

Molly heard some rustling as the two made their way to the stairs. "Anytime, Harry. And I mean that. Well, not necessarily the sleeping part…but the company."

"Thanks," came Harry's soft voice. And just before they left extendible earshot, Molly heard Harry flirtatiously add, "Oh, and don't rule out the sleeping…"

She didn't know whether to laugh or be appalled at his suggestive comment. Ultimately, Molly reeled the ear back in and smiled softly to herself. She was relieved she had realized her initial assumption was wrong. She was now worried at what would've kept Harry from sleeping, but happy that Ginny had been there for him.

Yes, it was only a matter of time.

-0-0-0-

"Well, that was a close one," Hermione commented, quite flustered as the doors shut behind them and the train started up almost immediately.

"Well, it's not _my_ fault mum made such an amazing breakfast that I wanted to keep eating it!"

"No Ronald," Hermione said impatiently. "But it _is _your fault for starting breakfast two hours after it was finished."

Harry grinned at the pair arguing. He was grateful that Ron had been running late and was getting the blame. It took a lot of the attention of the fact that Harry had been running very late as well. This was due to his late night at Grimmauld place (and the Ministry), and then sleeping down on the couch with Ginny.

Harry felt his face warm at the memory, still not quite believing he had slept for several hours with Ginny curled up at his side. They had played it cool for the rest of the morning, certainly, but Harry knew there was some awkwardness over the situation. In the end, he didn't really care much, though. Ginny had been a godsend. In the hour he had been brooding before her arrival, he had only managed to make himself feel worse and worse, and more and more confused by his mentors' actions.

But within a couple of hours of talking with her, he had come to peace with what he had done at the Ministry, and begun to understand Sirius and Dumbledore's decision. Ginny really was something special.

Ron and Hermione were still at it when Harry shook himself of his thought process. "…and seven pieces of bacon! It's not natural!"

"I can eat my food however I like, Hermione!"

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh before giving up. "Fine…let's just get to the Prefect's meeting. We're already late."

"I'll take care of your trunks," Harry commented. "Go on."

Ron and Hermione gave him grateful smiles and departed quickly.

"You need any help with those?" Ginny asked, pointing to Ron and Hermione's things stacked at the door of the train.

Harry waved his wand, lifting the trunks into the air. "Nah, magic's got my back."

Ginny grinned. "Alright. Well…I agreed to find Dean…so…"

Harry felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. It was already starting. They didn't even need to get back to Hogwarts before things changed. But he put on a smile, anyway. "Alright, but don't be a stranger. Laughing at the two lovebirds isn't nearly as much fun without you."

Ginny grinned. "I couldn't let you have all the fun, now could I?"

Feeling slightly better about Ginny leaving, he waved goodbye and they headed in opposite directions. It didn't take long for him to find a compartment that Neville and Luna were saving for him.

"Neville, Luna!" Harry exclaimed as he opened the door.

"Harry!" Neville responded, happily getting to his feet and greeting Harry.

"Hello, Harry," Luna responded calmly.

"Come in, come in!" Neville ushered Harry inside, watching the three trunks fly to the storage area behind him.

"How was your summer?" Harry asked the two compartment occupants as he seated himself across from Luna, next to Neville. Neville soon launched into an excited and surprisingly detailed outline of how his summer went. At first, Harry paid rapt attention, glad to catch up with his friend.

However, after realizing that Neville found each of the seven stages of his new Pot-ifer plant's growth to be the most enthralling bit of news, Harry tuned him out, giving polite nods and 'mmhmm's when he thought necessary.

"Then, the bulbs opened up…and what did I find?" Neville continued, nearly twenty minutes into the ride, unaware that Harry's eyes had long since glazed over and was thinking of how much better conversation Ron, Hermione, Ginny, or the actual plant Neville was talking about would be.

To Harry's eternal consternation, he never did find out what Neville found when the bulbs of his Pot-ifer plant opened up, for they were interrupted by the door sliding open. Harry instantly shook his head out of his funk and his hand went to his wand. But he quickly released his wand and felt a smile come to his face. Ginny came inside, leading a nervous-looking Dean inside the compartment.

"Ginny!" Neville said, his Pot-ifer plant forgotten for the moment. "Dean, so good to see you two!" Luna also gave an airy welcome before going back to her Quibbler magazine.

Harry, however, found the smile that had come to his face had still not left. "Ginny, I didn't expect you so soon!"

Ginny smiled back at him. "Upset you couldn't get rid of me, Potter?"

Harry's smile turned a bit mischievous. "Yeah, but I figured you couldn't stay away for long."

"It must be your irresistible…" Harry was excited to hear what quality Ginny found irresistible, but she quickly closed her mouth when Dean cleared his throat. Harry's smile faded quickly as he realized he had completely forgotten Dean had come in with Ginny.

"Hey Dean! Good to see you, mate!"

Dean grasped Harry's outstretched hand, but still seemed visibly nervous. Harry didn't blame him and felt a little bad about continuing his banter-filled relationship with Ginny right in front of her boyfriend. He made a mental note to dial it back when in others' company.

"Anyway," Ginny said conversationally, seemingly coming to the same conclusion as Harry. "It wasn't even me who suggested it. Dean said he was anxious to get to know _my _friends better, too." Ginny smiled up at Dean, and Harry was glad that she seemed happy.

"Erm, yeah…" Dean said. "So…how was your summer?"

_A foolish question_, Harry thought. Even though Dean had been looking at Harry when he said it, it was Neville who answered.

The following twenty minutes, while nearly an exact repeat of the previous twenty, were much more entertaining to Harry this time around. Ginny engaged Neville mock-excitedly as he elaborated in far too much detail his plant's perfunctory progression throughout the summer. Harry found himself holding back laughter and joining in within minutes and continually snuck smiles with Ginny. Dean seemed quite surprised at Ginny's profound interest in the Pot-ifer.

"Then, the bulbs opened up…and what did I find?"

"What?!" Harry and Ginny exclaimed together after the previously interrupted bulb question was repeated after twenty minutes.

But, as Harry would come to realize, he wasn't destined to know what emerged from those tricky Pot-ifer bulbs. For Ron and Hermione chose that exact moment to swing open the door and interrupt the excited boy's explanation.

"I'm not saying they're stupid," Ron was complaining adamantly. Harry released the hold of his wand that he had instinctually handled when the door opened. "I'm just saying that they are small and insignificant."

The two pushed into the now crowded compartment, oblivious to its occupants. "You were a first year not too long ago, Ron Weasley. Were you small and insignificant? Would you have liked to have been told to 'scram' by a prefect?" Hermione huffed as she sat down between Harry and Neville. Ron squeezed between Ginny and Luna, staring right back at Hermione.

"It would've been better than the twenty minute lecture on studies that Percy gave me!"

Hermione scoffed. "You're right there, because clearly _that_ didn't work!"

Harry glanced at Ginny who grinned back at him in mirth. Beside her, Dean just looked uncomfortably at the fighting pair.

"Ahem!" Harry said loudly interrupting Ron's retort. It seemed to break the pair out of their meaningless argument and bring awareness to their surroundings.

"Oh, hello everyone!" Hermione said, her tone of voice changing instantly. "How was your summer?"

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes when Neville took an excited breath. As he launched into his story once more, Harry heard Ginny stifle a giggle.

After yet another repeated ten minutes (the Pot-ifer had reached three feet and was losing its greenish hue), Dean excused himself to use the loo. Harry decided that this was a good time to speak with his friends about the DA.

"Sorry, Neville, I've got a few things to say to you, if you could hold off on your summer details for a minute."

"But Harry!" Ginny started, seemingly devastated at the interruption. Harry saw a slight smirk behind her mock frown.

"No, Ginny," Neville placated while Harry grinned at Ginny. "It's fine. We've got a long ride ahead of us."

Depressed at this revelation, but determined to discuss the DA with them before Dean got back, Harry dove right in. "I never really got to thank you guys at the end of last term for the help you gave at the Ministry. You were brave and loyal, and I don't know what would've happened without your help. I'm sorry I got you into it, but I'm grateful that you were willing."

Seeing only warm smiles and nods of acceptance, Harry continued. "I know I can trust you five _completely_. And that's why I wanted to ask for your help with the DA this year."

Hermione and Ginny immediately looked excited, Ron looked confused, Neville had a terrified expression on his face, and Luna just looked dreamily back at him. Taking these expressions as the go-ahead to explain himself, Harry pressed on.

"I've got a…rather busy schedule this year _without_ the DA. But Dumbledore and I think it is imperative that we keep the club going to give further practice and experience to those who want to be prepared for the pending war."

"I agree, Harry…but how can _we _help?" Neville asked worriedly.

"Look, the only reason I could teach it last year was because Hermione helped me prepare and people generally respected me. After your trip to the Ministry and battle with the Death Eaters, you lot are every bit as qualified as I was last year. Dumbledore wants the club to meet three times a week to allow for different student schedules. I simply can't teach that many times. So I was thinking that I'd cover one of the days each week, and the five of you would all teach on the other two days—if it works for your schedules, of course."

"But what could _I _teach?" Neville asked, clearly not liking this suggestion.

Before Harry could respond, Luna spoke up. "Teach whatever you want, Neville—anything practical, that is." Harry held in a chuckle that the hunter of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks was telling someone to do something practical, but was surprised to find her plan made sense. "I believe I will focus on emergency healing charms, as I have a bit of a gift with them. And if I am to teach it, I will only get better."

Harry glanced over at Hermione and raised his hand to close her jaw which hung open in surprise. She looked away embarrassedly, and Harry responded to Luna. "That's a perfect idea, and exactly what I was thinking. Students will be able to go to one of you to specialize in the war effort, or else they can go to each of you to get a generalized education. So I was hoping that you could all pick something to study, practice, and then teach?"

After a moment of silence, Ron clapped his shoulder. "Sure thing, mate. I think it's a great idea. I'll have to think for a little while before I know what to teach, but I'm in."

"Me too," Hermione said, apparently over her shock that Luna had said something practical and smart.

"Sure thing, Harry," Ginny said, and Harry smiled widely at her.

Then all eyes turned to Neville. "I don't know, Harry. What could I possibly teach…?"

Harry wrapped his arm around Neville and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "Mate, you'll think of something. And you'll be a great teacher because you've got qualities that can't be taught. With a little practice, you're going to be a leader and hope to the rest of Hogwarts."

Neville, still scared out of his gourd, nodded slowly. "Okay, Harry. I can do it."

Dean rejoined the group just moments later, pecking Ginny on the cheek as he did. Harry smirked at Ron's glower. The dark-skinned boy still looked so nervous in this group of friends, but seemed to try to make an effort to join in. "So, _Harry_," Dean with a quick glare in Neville's direction. "How was _your_ summer?"

Harry smiled at Dean's irritation at Neville and began talking about his summer. "It was just great! I don't know if you get the papers, but my godfather survived the battle at the end of last term."

Dean nodded excitedly. "I saw that! How did he survive it?"

Harry shrugged. Not only did he not understand it, but Harry wasn't too keen on telling many people of Sirius' experience in limbo. "No idea," he said before changing the subject. "But on top of that, I spent most of the summer at the Burrow, and it was brilliant."

Dean glanced at Ginny, a little hurt. "I thought you said no one could visit?"

Ginny looked guilty, and Harry had pity on her. "That's my fault. Something about me being Voldemort's number one target made Dumbledore extra cautious about the protection of their home." It occurred to Harry that Ginny hadn't even told Dean in her letters that he had been staying there. He felt a little bad about being the cause of any possible fight between them. "I'm sorry," he continued. "I'll make it up to you by trying to keep Ginny's brother off your back about dating her."

Dean gave a nervous chuckle and Ron glowered at Harry. Harry just smirked before Ginny's inquisitive look caught his eye. When his eyes found hers, she looked away quickly.

Dean shook his head. "It's alright mate…I understand the need for protections…"

Soon, every cabin member was sharing their summer activities and talking excitedly about the coming school year. They played games and enjoyed sweets from the cart that came by. It wasn't until Ron brought up that he dropped Herbology that Neville was reminded of his Pot-ifer plant.

"Oh, that reminds me. So the bulbs opened up and—"

Harry gripped his wand as the door slid open and Neville was interrupted once more, this time by Malfoy.

"Well, well, well…" Malfoy drawled as Harry tightened the grip on his wand in its holster. "If it isn't the Magnificent Ministry Six." Malfoy's eyes scanned the compartment until his eyes fell on Dean, who was holding Ginny's hand. "And the Weaslette's plaything has joined the crew! How wonderful." Crabbe and Goyle grunted their laughter behind Malfoy.

Harry raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

Malfoy smirked. "Just a friendly warning to you, Potter. Something I've been thinking about this summer. Watch your back—you never know when you'll be struck." The threat was clear; Draco knew some of Voldemort's plans. He'd likely learned from his father, recently broken out of Azkaban.

Harry decided to try to goad a little information out of him. "Why? Because you don't have the courage to fight me face to face?"

Smirk still present, Malfoy continued. "Not all of us have the stones to lead our friends into a death trap, Potter." Harry tried not to let it show, but Malfoy's words did actually get to him. He had been stupid in his bravery. But he had learned from it.

"Harry, Malfoy may be right that you need to be worried," Ginny said, shocking everyone. Malfoy's face lit up with glee until Ginny continued, with a smile on her face. "Complimenting your unmentionables and talking about striking from behind—_I'd_ certainly be afraid if that's what Malfoy has been thinking about over the summer."

The compartment burst into laughter as Malfoy's face grew red. "Why you…" his wand was out, but not before Harry's own wand was pointed at his chest. Dean was now standing between Malfoy and Ginny, blocking any attempt to curse her.

"Turn around, Malfoy," Harry said dangerously. "Unlike you, I'm not afraid to fight if you get out of line this year."

Knowing he was outgunned and outmanned, Malfoy sneered and turned with a billow of his robes. Crabbe and Goyle scampered after him down the hall.

The room settled down quickly as Harry shut the door and sighed. He sat back in his seat and felt a hand on his knee. Looking up, he saw Ginny leaning across the compartment looking at him concernedly. "You didn't lead us into a death trap, Harry. We all _chose_ to go and rescue Sirius, ok?"

Harry let out a small laugh and shook his head. How had she known Malfoy had gotten to him? "Thanks, Gin." Looking around the room, he saw four other heads nodding in agreement. The group insulted Malfoy a couple of times before moving on to other conversations.

The day stretched into the late afternoon by the time Neville resumed the story about his plant, deciding to give a ten minute recap of the twenty minute story Harry had already heard three times. He was zoned out, staring at the passing trees outside with window when he vaguely heard the words, "…and the bulbs opened up and revealed the most beautiful…"

Harry should have known from experience that an interruption was imminent now that Neville was about to reveal the bulbs' contents. Even so, his reflexes were rapt as he heard the door begin to swing open yet again and his hand went to his holstered wand.

When the open door revealed nothing but a strange shimmer in the air, Harry immediately pulled out the wand and cast a shield charm in the room. He was aware of the tale tell sign of a disillusionment charm. He heard a young, feminine voice whisper "_obfendo!_"

Issuing from the rippling air came a dull yellow curse, which hit high and rebounded off of Harry's shield, shooting straight up. The entire room shook at the contact as the spell blasted into the ceiling. A large portion of the roofing blasted to pieces, and great winds filled the small cabin as debris rained down on its occupants.

But Harry paid it no heed. He immediately fired a stunner at the shimmering air, and when the red light merely struck the wall behind it, he rushed out into the hallway, looking both ways for the familiar shimmer of a disillusioned person. But he didn't see a thing. Instead, he fired two locking charms down both lengths of the hallway to keep the offender in the train car. He hurried back into the compartment, where Hermione had begun to fix the broken compartment. Glancing around quickly, Harry determined no one was hurt beyond a startle.

"Neville, Luna," Harry said urgently. "I need each of you to go to either end of the train car. Don't let anyone leave or enter and look out for a disillusioned girl."

They both nodded, perhaps not understanding why, but obeying nonetheless. They quickly left the cabin. "Ron, Ginny…and Dean," Harry added, figuring it would be rude to leave his roommate out. "I need you to go cabin by cabin until you find the disillusioned girl who did this. I don't think she could have escaped." They each nodded as well, and left the compartment.

Harry turned to Hermione, who was just finishing up fixing the compartment. Her repairs were crude, the patterns of her ceiling not matching, and the material completely different. But she had patched the place up nicely. "Hermione," Harry said looking into his brilliant friend's eyes. "We need to find out how and why this happened."

Hermione nodded, the wheels in her head already turning. "Obfendo," she said, almost to herself. "The concussion curse used to briefly stun or shake a large group. It would've given her enough time to stun us each properly or whatever she wanted with us. It's in our text for _this _year. That means it was a sixth or seventh year, most likely. Not to mention the difficult disillusionment charm."

Harry nodded, though he did think she sounded younger than that. "And with Umbridge teaching last year, that means she was either _very_ studious last year, or a sixth year who would look ahead in this year's text."

"That said," Hermione said with a frown. "This was clearly a planned attack—could've been planning for months, getting help from Death Eaters or studying books above her year."

Harry nodded. Circumstantial evidence would never prove anything, but it would help direct them towards the right person and motive.

"NOOO!" Harry heard from the hallway. He and Hermione rushed out to see Ginny pointing her wand at a young girl who was pressed up against the wall. "I didn't mean to! I'm so sorry!"

Harry walked down the hall. Ginny looked torn, with her wand pointing at the pitiful girl. She looked to be a fourth year. She had an athletic build, tall for her age. Her blonde hair framed a tear-stained face. Harry noted that without the tears and given a year more to mature, she would be a very pretty girl.

And perhaps he was influenced by this or simply that his circumstantial evidence didn't point to a young fourth-year, but Harry immediately dismissed this girl as being the real culprit. He motioned to Ginny to lower her wand, which she did quickly. Apparently Ginny didn't believe this girl was at fault either.

The girl fell to the ground, still leaning against the wall and let out a sob. Harry kneeled down next to her. "Hey," he said, soothingly, grabbing her arm. "I believe you, don't worry."

Initially having flinched at the contact, the girl looked up at Harry with hope shining through her tears. "Really?"

Harry nodded and gave her a small smile. "Yeah. What's your name?"

"Haley," she responded though a sniffle.

"Okay Haley. Can you tell us what you can remember?"

Haley nodded slowly. "I came to the train this morning, put my stuff away in that compartment," she said, pointing feebly to an open compartment across the hallway, where Ginny had apparently found her. At this point, Harry realized the entire train car was peering out of their cabins to find the source of commotion. Dean and Ron had made their way over from where they were searching as well.

"I went for a walk after Denise and I had a row…and then everything gets fuzzy after that. I remember being told to walk up and down this hall every thirty minutes, and then to attack you with that spell after I'd been disillusioned."

Harry nodded sadly. "You were hit with the imperius curse." She let out another strangled sob. "Look at me in the eyes," Harry said.

After a moment, she looked back up at Harry. "I need you to tell me if you remember any other commands you were told." She shook her head. "Haley, I want you to listen closely, okay?"

The girl nodded. "I'm going to cast the spell on you again." The girl gasped, as did the compartment filled with her friends behind Harry. "You can only have one imperius master at a time, so I want to force out the other one in case he's merely commanded you to behave this way. I promise to release you the moment it's over."

The girl looked frightened up at Harry. Behind him, Ginny spoke up. "And Haley, if he doesn't, I'll hit him with the worst Bat Bogey Hex you'll ever see."

Harry smiled as Haley let out a small laugh. She nodded slowly. "_Imperio!" _

Harry saw the girl's eyes glaze over and he immediately released the spell. "Did it work?" Haley asked after shaking her head a few times, as if to clear it.

Harry nodded, smiling warmly at her. "Are you okay?"

She smiled bravely, and then an enormous blush came to her cheeks as her eyes widened at Harry. She let out a small 'eep.' It would seem that after the trauma had now passed, she suddenly realized that Harry Potter was crouched on the ground with her, holding her arm. Harry refrained from rolling his eyes and stood up quickly.

He turned around to find Ginny looking at the girl with lingering concern, but also amusement on her face. Harry finally rolled his eyes at Ginny, who held in a small laugh. After all, it wasn't too long ago that Ginny had reacted in a similar way to Harry.

After reassuring Haley that she'd be just fine, and to join her friends again, Harry walked down the hall. Ginny fell into step with him as Hermione led the way back to the compartment.

"Do you believe her completely?" Ginny asked as they made their way down the hall. "After all, _I _don't know that curse and I'm at least a year ahead of her in school.

Hermione nodded and explained. "If the one who imperiused her knows how and commanded her exactly how to perform the spell, she could do just fine. The only limit is whether her magical core was big enough, but that's not a terribly taxing spell, so she could do it without too much problem."

Harry stopped short before they turned into their compartment. He stood at the doorway and looked in. He visualized in his mind what the scene would've looked like from her point of view. Harry pulled out his wand and shot a spark into the air, mimicking the angle at which the spell had come at his shield.

"She shot high…" Harry whispered aloud. At Hermione and Ginny's inquisitive looks, Harry continued. "If someone had known how to give her a detailed command on the spell, that person would have known that the concussive curse is best shot low for maximum damage. Half of the curse's power is lost if the spell erupts at the head. She shot high…"

"So she got nervous," Ron offered from behind. Ron and Dean had followed closely behind and apparently caught the conversation.

Hermione shook her head. "The Imperiused don't get nervous. I suppose she could've fought off the command just enough to shoot high…why is that important, Harry?"

"Maybe her will strengthened at the last moment," Harry conceded. "Or maybe she was using someone else's wand…"

Ron made a strange noise as if he made a discovery. "Hey, yeah! When I got my new wand a couple years back, I found that I shot everything high for a while until I got used to the new length. It was longer than my old one."

Several ideas all ran through Harry's mind at once. Why would the person who cast the imperius curse give the girl a new wand to perform it? It was to be untraceable. This person hadn't banked on Harry deflecting the curse and catching up to Haley before she took the disillusionment charm off and returned to her normal life. Therefore, the real culprit would have commanded Haley to get rid of the wand, so that if wands were checked, she wouldn't be found.

He spoke to Hermione as he walked inside the compartment. "Go test her wand with Priori Incantatem, ask her about another wand and come back with what you've learned."

Hermione turned to leave, but stopped as Harry blasted the window off of the compartment wall. The winds immediately filled the compartment again as Harry walked up towards the hole he just created in the side of the train. "Go!" Harry shouted back at a shocked Hermione who went on her way. "Accio wand!" Harry shouted into the world that passed by them outside the train. He focused all of his thoughts on the idea of a wand lying outside beside the train tracks.

He kept his focus strong, despite not even knowing if this wand existed. He felt his magic slowly draining, which could be the cause of trying to accomplish an impossible task or of trying to summon a wand now over two miles away from the speeding train. But he kept it up, knowing a possibly disposed wand would be their only chance at finding this person.

After a few minutes, Hermione returned. "Haley's wand shows no signs of having cast the curse," she said softly, trying not to break Harry's concentration. Ultimately, he had to concentrate harder to hear her over the roaring wind, but he couldn't tell her that while thinking of summoning the wand. "She doesn't remember anything about another wand, but her friends said that when she came back invisible, the window opened. They freaked out."

"That's how I found them," Ginny concurred, over the wind. "They were screaming about how Haley was invisible."

This confirmed what Harry had suspected. She had been commanded to throw the dirty wand out the window. He strengthened his concentration, exerted more of his power to speed up the summoning, and hoped that it would arrive before he was spent. He felt all of his friends' eyes on him as sweat began to bead on his forehead. The wind from the speeding train quickly evaporated the liquid, but Harry felt no relief—his magic draining greatly. He realized that while he had strengthened certain "magic muscles," such as his ability to apparate quickly and often without tiring, the simple summoning charm still took a lot of strength when attempted on this large scale. It had never seemed like an important spell to get more proficient at.

Just as his legs began to shake, and he felt Ron wrap his arms around him to steady him, Harry saw a small object in the distance speeding along the train. Car by car, the wand slowly caught up to them until it flew in through the window, and Harry caught it in his free hand. Harry immediately went slack, allowing Ron to hold him up and then guide him into the seats in the compartment.

Harry sat down roughly with a long exhale. He took deep breaths for a moment, trying to regain his strength. He felt the fatigue dissipate slowly as his magic began to recoup. After she had repaired the window, Harry held the wand out to Hermione who had an impressed and concerned look on her face. Harry took a long look at the wand. It looked to be about fourteen inches long. Harry guessed the wood was oak, but couldn't know for sure. He had no idea what the core was, or how one could find out.

Hermione cut his ponderings short when she cast priori incantatem. The group huddled close together to watch as the wand's previously cast spells were revealed in reverse order.

Concussion curse, disillusionment charm, imperius curse, several disillusionment charms and several concussion curses all packed together.

Hermione smiled grimly up at Harry. "This is the wand, and it would appear whoever planned this needed to practice quite a bit. I think it's a student on this train."

"Probably a sixth or seventh year," Harry said weakly. "We should know soon enough. Ollivander never forgets who he sells his wands to. I'll have Dumbledore send notice to him as soon as we get to Hogwarts."

Ginny went to find Luna and Neville, and the rest of the group all sat down. They immediately began naming suspects. Malfoy was the first on the list. Most of the other guesses were Slytherins. Hermione suggested a Ravenclaw, someone Haley may have trusted. Ginny soon arrived back at the compartment, telling Neville and Luna all that they had learned. Dean stayed pretty quiet besides saying, "Is this what _every_ school year is like for you guys? No wonder you always get so many points awarded and taken away from you…"

-0-0-0-

Somewhere on that train car, a student breathed a sigh of relief. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger had nearly caught up to them. But, the student had managed to listen in on the compartment while the deductions were taking place, neither noticed nor suspected as they eavesdropped.

It was a good thing that they never thought to look at everyone's wand on the train to compare the dirty wand. After all, the student had needed to get one quite similar to their original to practice the spells effectively. It was also a good thing Ollivander wouldn't remember who the student was that purchased the wand. It had been stolen, after all.

**-0-0-0-**

**A/N: There will be two things I refuse to address in responses to reviews: Who the real attacker is, and what what is in the Pot-ifer bulbs. I encourage you to throw out guesses as to both, but to keep some surprise in the story, I won't confirm or deny anything. Over the course of the story, I will both hint and mislead at who it is, if you're reading closely.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	11. Hogwarts Is Where the Heart Is

**A/N: Thanks to the great reviewers! There are a few reviews from guests in each chapter. I really enjoy conversing a little with the reviewers, so if you log in to leave a review, I'd love to respond!**

**Harry's back at Hogwarts, now. The castle is a great place to write about-that said, this will be one of the few chapters that takes place almost entirely at the school. There is a war going on, after all. And it deserves our attention.**

Chapter 10: Hogwarts Is Where the Heart Is

"Can you tell?"

"He doesn't appear to be angry anymore."

"No, but he doesn't look happy, either."

"He'll come to understand, Sirius."

"Maybe he's hoping the same thing about us."

-0-0-0-

"Another summer has come and gone  
The school year fast upon us.  
But listen close, and heed my song  
Lest this year become a fuss

"For centuries, I've sorted well  
Determining which house to choose.  
Beware believing, I do tell,  
The house determines you.

"Young Gryffindors are not destined  
To be leaders of the light  
Just as my cunning Slytherins  
Must not against them fight.

"Ravenclaw, though neutral tend,  
Above the rest, don't flout.  
And Hufflepuffs, my friends,  
Need not take the easy route.

"This old hat merely sits and thinks and sorts  
No intent to choose a path  
Remember when faced with many ports  
A choice, it is _thou,_ who hath.

"And finally, I beg the rest  
Who have decided which path to take  
Don't use a house to determine who's best  
For both your and their sake."

As the applause drew to a close, and sorting began, Harry reflected on the sorting hat's song. Harry liked the theme. He was as guilty as the next guy of judging a student by their house. All Slytherins were bad, that was what he always thought. But why? After all, Harry had nearly been sorted there. Would he have immediately been evil had he not begged the hat to send him elsewhere?

But Harry had considered this question previously. What inquiry the hat's parting lines had actually left Harry with was not about Slytherins, but his own housemates. The hat had called him out as one who had already chosen his path—but then asked not to determine _friends_ based on house alone. It may have been implied not to decide enemies simply by which house they lived in, but it was expressly said not to decide who is _best_ based on house.

Harry shook his head disappointedly. If anyone should have understood this before the hat's warning, it would be Harry. His mind flashed to Peter Pettigrew, betrayer of lifelong friends. And Harry wasn't naïve enough to think that Peter had always been evil. No, he was a trusted friend. He had broken the law for a werewolf, had enjoyed Sirius' humor, and stood behind James for years. But things can change, and the Marauders had chosen to be blind to it because the truth was too painful.

Harry hoped he wouldn't make the same mistake—even though the very thought of any of his friends betraying him was terrifying, and not an idea he wanted to entertain.

Speaking of betrayal, Harry had yet to make eye contact with Sirius or Dumbledore, though he felt each of their eyes on him a few times. Harry knew in his heart of hearts he was already starting to understand them, but damn it, he was pissed at them. They may have been hoping to help him and boost his confidence—and a few months from now Harry might agree. But right now, he could still smell the burnt flesh and see the metallic blood of his victims from the night before.

Then again, maybe that was the goal, too. He had been training all summer to be a warrior, and yet taking a life had taken a profound toll on him. Perhaps Dumbledore knew he needed to experience it, and placed him in a situation where it might happen. In any case, Harry still wasn't convinced it was Dumbledore's decision to make.

Such thoughts plagued him for much of the sorting, earning him concerned glances from Hermione and Ginny. Ron merely stared at the empty table, occasionally griping about the time the first years were depriving him of eating. Down a few chairs, Harry heard Neville whispering to an uninterested Lavender Brown about his plant's summer. Harry listened closely for the mention of the Pot-ifer's bulbs, knowing that the sorting would end and Dumbledore would interrupt the boy before he could tell anyone of the bulb's contents.

Sure enough, just as Neville asked Lavender the question, "And what do I find when the bulbs open up," the hat sorted Neil Zilch into Slytherin, and Dumbledore stood up to address the students of Hogwarts.

"My dear students," Dumbledore began. "I have a few announcements to make. First, I would like to welcome our newest teacher to the school—Professor Sirius Black!"

Immediate chatter filled the school as Sirius stood up and gave a short wave. His smile didn't reach his eyes, and Harry felt an odd sort of contentment, knowing his godfather couldn't enjoy this moment because of his action against Harry the previous day. But deep down, Harry felt bad for the man that he couldn't experience this moment to its fullest. After all, the death glare that Snape was sending him would have been enough to send Sirius to cloud nine on any other day.

"I want to reassure everyone," Dumbledore said with a slight smile, "That Professor Black is, in fact, innocent. He has fought and nearly died for the light, and will continue the fight by helping each of you learn to defend yourself.

"This brings us to our next news. Sirius Black has taken on an assistant professor who spent much of last year instructing in the Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry Potter will continue his class beginning next week, and all students fourth year and above are permitted to attend." The school began to buzz more excitedly than at Sirius' announcement, and Dumbledore simply spoke over them, causing a hush to quickly arrive. No one wanted to miss this news. "Watch for announcements for the practical class, now termed the Defend and React Training, in your common rooms. The instruction period will be short, and as the name implies, the coached practice will train you to survive and respond to attacks."

Dumbledore paused for a moment, allowing the students a short moment to talk excitedly or nervously about this news. Harry tried to keep his own emotions neutral, but was having an increasingly difficult time as Ginny tried to catch his attention. She seemed to be emulating many of the female reactions in the room, whispering loudly enough for him to hear about how excited she was to go just for the eye candy.

Dean looked at her, torn between amusement at her mocking teenage girls and worry that she might be one of those teenage girls. After she was done mocking, Ginny turned to Harry and said. "DART…nice acronym."

"Yeah," Harry said nodding sadly. "I actually wanted to go with Fight and React Training, but Dumbl…"

Ron snorted, Hermione tsked, but Harry was unable to finish his thought or see Ginny's eye roll and smirk because Dumbledore began speaking again. His tone was serious and the students immediately silenced. "My last words will be few. And they are this: Hogwarts is to be a haven from the war going on outside this school. I will show little tolerance to those who wish to bring the war here with them."

There was a tense silence in the air, and Harry looked shocked up at the professor. Harry had always thought of Dumbledore to be the merciful, forgiving type. He employed Severus Snape, after all. But Harry found himself with growing respect as the aged headmaster laid down the law and struck fear into the students. It certainly appeared as though his very first priority, above even saving the wicked, was saving the innocent.

Dumbledore's face switched from stern to joyful in the blink of an eye, and said with glee, "Now eat up! We've a feast to take care of!"

The tension broke immediately as uneasy laughter shifted to excited chatter. The food appeared, Ron drooled, and the students obeyed their headmaster's final command. Their obedience to his first command was yet to be tested.

The delicious feast eventually drew to a close as feasts are wont to do, and Harry was now faced with the moment he most dreaded. He gave Ginny a look that only she could understand, and she nodded her support. He smiled warmly back at her and told Ron and Hermione that he would meet them in the common room.

Hundreds of students were filing out of the Great Hall, but instead of following them, Harry made his way to the professors' table. Dumbledore and Sirius watched him approach, Dumbledore's face calculating and Sirius' face concerned.

Harry walked right past Sirius, giving him little more that a brief nod, and reached Dumbledore. "Sir," Harry said, keeping his voice impassive.

"Harry," Dumbledore nodded, still looking at Harry as if he were a puzzle to figure out.

"We were attacked on the train earlier by an imperiused girl," Harry said, getting right to the point. Dumbledore's eyes widened in shock—Harry was no longer his first priority. "No one was hurt," Harry added quickly, before relating exactly what had happened and the actions Harry had taken.

"…and this wand eventually came through the window," Harry said, holding up the long, oak weapon. "I figured you could send someone to Ollivander's to try to see who bought it, and if we've got a student who has already joined them."

Dumbledore reached forward. "Thank you, Harry," he said sincerely. "I fear to think what might have happened without your presence."

Harry didn't make the obvious comment that the attack likely wouldn't have happened were it not for his presence. Then the thought came that if it were not for his training over the summer, something bad could have happened, indeed. Harry cursed this thought, because it meant showing gratitude to the two men whom he was currently very angry with.

"I'd like to have that talk that we cut short last night, Harry."

Harry let out a sigh. Without looking back up, he mumbled his response. "Give me a couple more days, sir."

Harry felt more than saw the aged man's acquiescence. Harry turned quickly and left without even looking at Sirius. He didn't want to deal with them right now. Instead he went for a short walk around the castle. Harry loved Hogwarts, and just feeling the stones under his feet, seeing the familiar tapestries and statues along the walls, listening to the gossiping chatter of the paintings, filled him with joy. It didn't take long for Harry to have a smile come over his face. In time, he would heal from his experiences. He would have reason to trust his godfather again. He would because he was home, and Hogwarts brought out the best in him.

After a short while, Harry made his way to Griffindor tower only to find himself pacing in front of the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Quidditch?"

"Nope."

"You're a beautiful woman, you know that?"

"Yes I do, thank you. But that is not the password."

"Gah…something Latin then. Aperi?"

"Nice try."

"Ignoro?"

"Clearly…and no."

"Pluribus…er…Anus?"

"Not even close."

"What do you want from me, woman?"

"The password."

Harry cursed his stupidity. How had he not asked Ron and Hermione for the password at some point? How did more people _not_ run into this problem at the start of every term?

He heard a light chuckle surprise him from behind. Harry cringed. He wouldn't hear the end of this for a while. Turning around slowly, Ginny came into Harry's sight.

"How long?"

"The whole time," Ginny responded with a positively glowing smile. She was truly beautiful when she smiled like that. _Well, _Harry thought to himself. _She's beautiful no matter what expression she's got._

He shook his head of this thought before pouting. "And you just let me make a fool of myself for five minutes, why?"

"Because it's just so much fun!" Ginny said happily. They grinned at each other for a moment before Ginny's face grew more serious. "But as fun as watching _this_ was, the real reason I was waiting for you was to see if you needed to talk."

Harry felt his heart swell. All of his fears about what their friendship would be like back at Hogwarts departed his mind. On the very first day, Ginny had cared enough about him to leave her boyfriend and school friends she hadn't seen all summer to see if he was alright.

He looked down at his hands and smiled softly. "I'm actually alright, Gin." He looked up into her chocolate eyes and had to hold back a gasp at all the emotion they held. The way she looked at him made Harry feel like he was the only person in the enormous castle—that at that moment, nothing else mattered to her. "Thank you," Harry managed.

They stared at each other for a long moment—neither breaking the powerful gaze that mesmerized them. She seemed to be looking into his eyes for an answer. He simply looked into hers to treasure the feelings they gave him. He was the most important thing in the world to her at that moment. Eventually, Harry knew he needed to answer the question Ginny was asking with her eyes. "Really," he said sincerely while reaching out and taking her hands in his. "I'm home now…and everything is going to be okay."

-0-0-0-

"My Lord," Lucius Malfoy said, bowing before Voldemort. "My son has just reported that your servant's attempt to gain information from Potter on the train today failed."

Lucius looked up in time to see his Master's eyes narrow slightly. He gave a curt nod, though. "This is not unexpected. And I think 'backup plan' is a more fitting title than _servant_," the Dark Lord said.

Lucius refrained from rolling his eyes as he sensed a Voldemort monologue beginning. They were famous among the inner circle. No one dared say anything to the player, however.

"You see, Lucius, what separates me from previous dark wizards is my foresight. Many in our history have been strong and powerful—but none have been as prepared. What happened to me that night in Godric's Hollow was a fluke, an aberration. But these things happen and have happened all throughout history. I have separated myself from past would-be leaders by being prepared for the aberration."

Lucius nodded, suddenly very nervous now that the topic of Voldemort's immortality had arisen. Lucius was the only person on earth aware of Voldemort's ultimate _backup _plan thanks to a recently restored memory. But Voldemort wasn't aware that Lucius knew.

"Always have a backup plan," Voldemort continued. "That is the rule. So young Draco is the plan. That's great, a fine plan. But a backup plan ensures success. In that old fool's precious Order of the Phoenix—we have a backup plan. It may not be as sure as Severus, but the backup ensures success. And now, as the Ministry believes themselves to have caught our mole, we have a backup plan. And what does that do for us, Lucius?"

Doing everything in his power to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, Lucius responded. "It ensures success, my Lord."

"That's right, Lucius. It ensures success."

-0-0-0-

"Sirius!" Sarah said, surprised as he emerged from her fireplace. "I didn't think you'd come by on your first day at Hogwarts."

Sirius stepped out, and brushed his robes off. He wouldn't look up at her as she approached to kiss him. He was guarding his emotions again. A sure sign that he was confused or depressed. He didn't want her to feel all of that.

"Hey," she said softly, and lifted his chin up to look her in the eyes. His face was sad, but he smiled softly at her anyway. "What's wrong?"

He merely stood there, staring into her eyes. If the situation were right, Sarah would note to herself what a handsome man Sirius was. She would love to run her hands through his dark hair, comment on his well-built and healthy body. She would think about how gorgeous his grey eyes were. But instead, she was focused on the pain swirling in his eyes.

Sirius was normally a very jovial guy. He was one of the few people who could make her laugh no matter what the situation. He nearly always had a smile to brighten the room. Therefore, when his countenance was something other than happy, Sarah knew it was something serious.

"I've done something terrible, Sarah," he began.

Sarah quietly led him to the couch where they sat and got comfortable. Sirius then told her of his last couple of days, including a horrifying tale of what happened in the Ministry the previous night. Sarah had been one of the reporters who had been trying to get a scoop on exactly what happened. She knew now that she couldn't write about this story and expose what Harry had done and reveal the Order's plans for keeping the Ministry safe.

By the end of the tale, Sirius had his head in his hands and he spoke miserably. "He was furious with us, Sarah. He _killed_ someone! I mean, I know he would have killed someone at some point in this war…and maybe it's best it happened now, like this. But he's just a boy for Merlin's sake!"

Sarah softly rubbed Sirius' back as he talked. She wanted to let him get it all out before she spoke.

"And now…he wouldn't even look at me today. I thought…" Sirius looked up at Sarah, heartbroken. "I thought I was done breaking people's trust."

Sarah felt his shame and fear once more—a rare feeling to come from Sirius these days. He had been so happy, ever since they started their relationship again. He had been bonding with his godson, finally doing the job that James and Lily had entrusted him, as he would say. And now this. She hugged him tightly.

"Does he understand your intentions?"

"Who the hell cares what my intentions were? What we did was wrong."

"Maybe, maybe not. Time will reveal that to him. What doesn't need time to be revealed is why you did it."

Sirius sighed. "He said he wants a few days before we talk about it. I think he's too angry to listen to us right now."

Sarah nodded. "That's understandable. But as soon as he'll hear you out, you need to tell him why you tricked him. He'll forgive you and trust you much more easily if he understands your intentions."

There was a pause before Sirius spoke again. "You forgave me without knowing why I cheated."

Sarah felt a pain constrict her chest as he brought up that dark night. "We've already talked about this…I forgave you."

"I know," Sirius said, straightening up and facing Sarah more squarely. "But I want you to know why I did it, if it will help."

Sarah nodded slowly. She did want to understand, even if it would bring back a lot of pain that she had been avoiding for the past month.

"It's inexcusable, and cliché, and stupid. But I was scared. Terrified, really." Sirius looked into her eyes and his sincerity poured into her. "I had _never_, in all my life been so scared as when I was with you. You knew me completely, understood everything about me. James was a brother to me, and he didn't know me a fraction of the way you did.

"And it wasn't because of your gift, Sarah. It was because I had opened up to you, left myself as vulnerable as anyone has ever been. And it scared me to death."

Sarah listened intently, unsure of what to think at the moment. "So I did what I'd always done—I ran. Just like I ran from all previous relationships, ran from my family, and just like I'd do a couple months later when I ran from my responsibility to you and Harry and chased down Peter.

"I spent twelve years in Azkaban, and the only thing that kept me sane was my innocence. But the thing that nearly drove me mad was those mistakes I'd made—especially yours. The Dementors, in their own miserable way, drove the point home that you had left yourself as vulnerable as I had. The only way I can possible understand the pain I must have put you through is from the guilt that I felt at having put you through it."

Sarah felt her eyes well up with tears as Sirius choked up. She was about to speak, but Sirius cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I could have escaped sooner. Could have changed into a dog and swam away, but that pain was so paralyzing—and I felt like I deserved it, so I wanted to be there—to suffer as I made you suffer. I would ask for the paper whenever I could just so that I could see your name in print, and feel more pain. It wasn't until I saw Wormtail in the paper that I was able to push past the pain and guilt, and take on a goal more worthy of my time."

"Oh, Sirius!" Sarah said, pulling him into a hug. She was so grateful she had already forgiven him, now that she understood what he went through. Just as he had said, his actions were inexcusable. But it was safe to say he had paid for it. "You understand that I forgive you, right?"

He nodded into her shoulder. "And you know that Harry will, too!"

Sirius nodded again. "Yes. Like you, he is much better than I deserve."

-0-0-0-

During the summer, Harry Potter had gotten his eyes checked in Diagon Alley, courtesy of Sirius' money, of course. He'd wished he'd bought new frames in addition to updated lenses. However, despite not having some nicer looking frames, Harry was shocked when his new pair of glasses made the world suddenly appear a little clearer. He could see blades of grass swaying in the wind, instead of simply seeing a patch of green on the ground. He could see the adorable individual freckles on Ginny's creamy skin, instead of a duller skin tone. It was remarkable.

Following a couple of days of class, Harry realized that his glasses weren't the only thing that received improved lenses over the summer. His very outlook on life and learning had shifted completely. Instead of merely enduring through class, Harry found himself alert and excited when his professors spoke. Whether his teachers were teaching better material, or his summer of training had given him a new purpose to learn, Harry wasn't sure. But he finally understood why Hermione could so often be found in the library or with her nose in a book. His life had gotten a new prescription, and the vision before him was beautiful.

Charms class had been fascinating the previous day. They were learning about animating inanimate objects. Throughout the class, Harry recalled Dumbledore's fight in the atrium where the statues leapt to life and defended him. He excitedly learned the theory, spell mechanics, and how the magic connected the animated object to the caster's mind so they could better obey the wizard's will. The lessons would continue for nearly four weeks, given the difficult nature of the spells. Harry vowed to be competent in two.

Potions class was unbearable, but enlightening. Having spent part of the summer drinking increasing doses of potions to increase his immunity to them, Harry recognized the power of potions. This revelation kept him engaged and anxious to learn despite Snape's attempts at belittling him. In fact, earlier that morning, Harry had brewed the second best potion in class—behind Hermione of course. He was so confident that when Snape tried to get a rise out of him, daring him to drink his sense-heightening potion, Harry threw his head back and downed it.

The downside of doing so was that when Snape took away ten house points, it felt like he was yelling at Harry. The upside, however, was keenly seeing the oh-so-subtle twitch in the professor's eye that showed his hatred of Harry's improved ability. One less thing Snape could taunt him about.

The potion had all but worn off by the time Transfiguration rolled around, but Harry didn't need it to hear Professor McGonagall. He was all ears as the professor launched into a very informative discussion on defense against the Unforgivables.

"I have spoken with Professor Black," Professor McGonagall began. "And we believe it to be of utmost importance that you learn early in the term how to counter the Unforgivables."

A hand shot in the air. The teacher called on Lavender Brown. "But I thought it was impossible to block them."

"To a degree, that is true. Spells taught to you in Defense classes in the past will do nothing to stop the killing curse. There are shield spells that can help against the other two Unforgivables, however. Along with a couple of other tactics, that is what Professor Black will be instructing you on. However, we will go over transfiguration defense for the next few weeks in this class. Now, who can tell me one of the three types of summoning?"

Hermione raised her hand. After seemingly debating with herself as to which summoning spell to elaborate on, she spoke up. "The most obvious is summoning an object from one location to another. Such as calling that piece of chalk to me," she concluded, pointing to the chalk on McGonagall's desk.

"Precisely, Miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor. That is the summoning charm, and we will do little practice on it in this class, given its simplicity. But know that it can be very useful in defending yourself against the Unforgivables. For example, Mr. Potter, please cast a simple stunning curse at me."

Harry stood up slowly and pulled out his wand from its holster. Professor McGonagall stood fifteen feet away, holding her wand loosely in her hand. Harry raised his own wand and said, "Stupefy," weakly. A red light burst from his wand and soared towards the professor.

She lazily waved her wand and an empty chair flew in front of her, intercepting the curse midair. The chair flew past the aged woman and crashed to the floor. "Thank you Mr. Potter," McGonagall said as Harry sat down. "Now, had that been the killing curse, the chair would have been destroyed and you would have shrapnel to worry about, but at least you wouldn't immediately die from the curse."

McGonagall turned back to the class, imploring for the second type of summoning. She ignored Hermione's hand until a Hufflepuff girl raised her hand. "Summoning a vanished object?"

McGonagall nodded, awarded points, and elaborated, matching each word with the action she described. "That's right. I can take this chair here; I can levitate it near me, and then cast a vanishing charm. There are many theories as to where vanished objects go, but we know that living organisms cannot be vanished without some very serious magic—and then they never come back alive. Some say that, like a banishing charm carries an object through one of the three observable dimensions, a vanishing charm sends it through a fourth dimension—to a time where it is not disturbed until summoned back. I personally believe in a fifth dimension—magic. Magic takes the vanished object into its own realm and then brings it back when we summon it.

"This summoning spell is very useful against the Unforgivables if you have time to prepare. You can levitate many objects to follow you around in the different dimension, and then summon them as soon as a curse is approaching. This requires practice in knowing the limitations of summoning an object away from where it was vanished. You would hate to summon an object only to find it appears a few feet away. I do not want your last thoughts in life to be that you wished you had studied today's lesson more."

A third summoning type was asked for, and Harry raised his hand. "The third summoning is actually transfiguration," Harry said. He had learned this lesson the hard way when he tried to summon a shield from nothing to block a spell from Sirius. "You transfigure the air, or space around you, into an object. The magical community simply calls it summoning because it appears to be summoned from nothing, or that other dimension you were talking about."

"Excellent, Mr. Potter. Ten points to Gryffindor. This transfiguration is the third type of summoning that we will begin in depth lectures on after a couple weeks of the second summoning spell. The important thing to know about transfiguring is that it is difficult to transfigure magical properties.

"For example, if I transfigure the air in front of me to a chair," she waved her wand and a hard backed chair appeared in front of her. "Mr. Potter's stunning charm would go right through this chair. The physical properties of the air have changed to that of a chair's, but not the magical properties. Therefore, a spell that can travel through air will go through this chair just as easily. I can sit in it, but its magic is not changed. That takes time and some very complex spells you won't learn until next year. That is why you cannot transfigure something into food, because your body requires the magical properties of food, not just the physical ones.

"So, if you are going to use transfiguration, make sure you transfigure something with the correct magical properties. I can transfigure the chalk into a chair, and it will block the spell just fine—and the increased physical size of the chair will help block that spell easier. But if I try to transfigure air or liquid water into a chair, it will do me no good."

Class continued as practicing began and homework on the second type of summoning was given. Harry was surprised to find how excited he was to learn the details of physical limitations of summoning, even if he dreaded writing eight inches on it.

But Harry did not have time to do his Transfiguration homework that night. He was busy teaching a class of his own.

Due to the enormity of the class that Harry was given leadership of, it was necessary the class be held in the Great Hall. With the help of many teachers, Harry had turned the Hall into a magnificent training room equipped for hundreds of students. Each class would begin with the students sitting in auditorium seating—sitting for their professor's instruction. But that instruction would rarely last long, as Harry was much more interested in the students practicing than him talking at them.

Then, the auditorium would vanish, and depending on the activities of the day, different training facilities would appear for the day. Then it was time for the students to practice in a way that no other class allowed.

"You're going to do great," Harry heard a voice say behind him. He stood before the rapidly filling seats of the auditorium, off to the side of the podium that he would soon be speaking from. Harry had begun to feel some knots tie in his stomach, but allowed himself to be distracted from them when he turned to see Hermione and Ron smiling supportively at him.

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said earnestly. His two best friends, along with Neville, Luna and Ginny (and Dean) had arrived early to help him out and get seats at the front of the audience. Now, just before the class was to begin, they came to offer their support.

"Just like last year, mate," Ron said, before smiling. He continued in a dry tone, "Except with a few hundred students instead of a dozen."

Harry laughed lightly. It was quite the task Dumbledore had assigned him. But Harry was appreciative of the trust shown him. If only he could return the trust…

"Ronald!" Hermione admonished, shocked at what Ron considered to be supportive behavior. "You'll do just fine, Harry."

Harry feigned offence. "Fine? Just a moment ago you said I'd do great! Already losing your faith in me?"

"No, Harry!" Hermione started, before narrowing her eyes at Harry's laughter. "Oh very funny. I hope you make a fool of yourself!"

Ron and Harry both laughed and Harry shooed them back to their seats, thanking them again for their _kind_ words of encouragement. But as Harry took to the stand moments later and stood before hundreds of students, he felt no nerves. He smiled gratefully to Ron and Hermione, amazed at the power of his friendship with them.

Casting a silent charm to turn up the volume on his voice, Harry addressed the murmuring crowd. A silence fell immediately.

"I'd like to thank you all for coming. I see representatives from all houses, and look forward to getting to know each of you. Whatever your intent in coming here tonight, know that I intend to help you learn to defend yourself."

Harry looked forward at the numerous clicks and groups among his peers and students. "Some of you are here simply because my name is Harry Potter. I hope your reasons change after today. Some of you have come to find fault with me and mock me. Don't worry, you will find what you're looking for." There was light laughter as Harry added seriously. "But even if you aim to hurt me and what I stand for, I will still teach you. It's up to you to learn, though.

"Most of you, I hope, are here because you are scared. Scared that there is a madman out there who has gathered his followers and all but declared war on society as we know it. You're scared that he might hurt you, or worse…someone you care about. My ultimate goal for you this year isn't to take away that fear—but to help you so that when that fear comes, it won't be realized. When the Death Eaters come to your village, or stroll down Diagon Alley while you are shopping—you'll be ready."

Harry took a deep breath, letting the silence of the Hall wash over him. "I'd like to welcome our guests, the headmaster and the Heads of House, this evening. I say guests because that's exactly who they are tonight. You are welcome any time," Harry said, addressing the teachers. "But don't expect to do any teaching here."

A surprised chatter filled the Great Hall as the students expressed shock that the qualified teachers would not be aiding Harry. He wasn't just the face of the club after all.

Harry smiled softly before continuing. "You may be wondering what makes me qualified to teach. I could list a couple of experiences I've had that bolster my résumé, but when all is said and done…I'm just a student like you. And that's what is so beautiful about this class. When those Death Eaters come to your village, or appear in Diagon Alley unannounced; when they show up at your doorstep—Professor Dumbledore won't be there to defeat them. It will be you. Maybe a friend or family member to help.

"This class will be the same way. It is up to _you_. I, and some of my friends with strong résumés, will be here to help you learn, but you will go at your own pace. You will get out of this experience what you put in. Showing up to class gets you no grade, and copying your friend's work will benefit you nothing.

"Because when all is said and done, the only thing that will stand between a Death Eater and you is your own wand. So let's learn how to use it, shall we?"

A few people shouted their excitement, and many others nodded their head. Others looked down at Harry with apprehension, while others still glared down at him. Harry spoke again, having ended his little speech, and addressed the format of the class.

Once a week, Harry would instruct them as a whole for a brief time. This instruction would generally include situational queries, asking students to think outside the box in order to get themselves out of hypothetical situations. Harry recalled the many mental exercises that Sirius and Dumbledore had put him through in order to improve his instinct and would try to emulate those with this large group.

Following this instruction, the students would disperse into ten groups, which would be assigned today by means of ten quick, non-injurious duels. Dumbledore had cast an ingenious randomly generated attractions spell on the occupants of the room, each being enchanted upon walking through the entrance doors. There would be ten rounds where each student duel the other student that they were pulled towards, before moving on to the next random student. Then, the students would total up their victories, and that number became their group number.

"Don't bother trying to lie about which group you are in," Harry added, knowing students would want to be in the more advanced groups for their pride's sake. "It will only hinder your own growth and the growth of the group you would be in. And if you are concerned that you dueled only seventh year experts and therefore were in a group less advanced than you, you will be able to move up as you prove yourselves able. This also means you can move down if you slack off and your entire group progresses past you."

Harry went on to explain that these groups would be organized with leaders and that Harry would personally oversee the groups' progress. But this would just occur once a week. Beyond that, there were two more DART meetings per week that would be explained in more detail when they were held. Those would be the classes taught by Harry's friends.

Without further ado, Harry explained the duels in more detail, and asked that the students leave the seating. After they were done filing out of the seating, Harry waved his hand. The large stand disappeared, and the room began transforming. The Hogwarts staff had done all the necessary pre-transfiguring for him per his request, so all he needed to do was activate the spell. All of the tables that generally sat in the hall moved from the sides where they were stacked and scattered across the room. They began shifting, growing tall and thin, and gaining a rough, wooden texture. The ground became littered with fallen foliage and twigs as the tables became trunks that grew to the enchanted ceiling—which joined with the trunks and gave off the appearance of leaves and branches, covering the sky above them.

The students were all gazing around in awe at the forest they now found themselves in. Harry again activated another charm, and each student began moving—against their will—towards another student. It was a bit comical, and Harry laughed to himself as his peers glided towards each other like magnets. Each student came to rest just inches from another student.

After the movement ceased, Harry spoke again. "You have found your first dueling partner. After I've finished speaking, the spell will be released and you will have five seconds to go where you want before a horn alerts you of the start of the duel. Remember, the duel is won when you disable a student—no more than a stunner and preferably just disarming. If you do serious injury, the duel will count as a loss and you will face punishment from me and the staff. My final words of advice: this is not a formal duel—this is a simulation of what you might experience in the war."

Harry stopped speaking, the charm was released, and after a brief moment of shock, all hell broke loose. Harry had to smile to himself as students raced behind trees, or chased their terrified dueling partner. Then the horn blew and curses, magical and verbal, began to be thrown around.

Harry watched with interest as different strategies were employed. It seemed some students had absolutely no idea how to fight, and could merely put up shields in horror as they were quickly incapacitated. Others demonstrated decent instinct with no skill as they darted behind trees for cover, but could do little more than basic stunning curses or prank hexes. Then, Harry found others to be adept spell casters with absolutely no idea how to fight—casting brilliants spells, but being disarmed quickly because their opponent knew how to fight.

Many used their surroundings and the chaos to their advantage, hiding behind trees and in shadows, while others were completely overwhelmed by the dozens of students running around them and spells launching past them. Harry smiled contentedly, knowing that over the course of ten duels, students would win and lose battles for all of these different reasons. Therefore, when all was said and done, students with different strengths and weaknesses would be put in the same group together.

The remainder of the class went quickly. The forest morphed with each new duel, as it transformed to a busy street, then to an icy lakeside. Harry found that with each new situation, different students' abilities flourished or diminished in importance to the given duel. He started to get a clear picture of certain defense tactics and spells that would be high on his list to instruct on.

Harry also noticed with a smirk when several girls would see him observing them and, in their embarrassed distraction, would lose duels while blushingly smiling at him. While somewhat flattering, Harry ultimately found it annoying that something as stupid as a famous boy could lose them a battle.

But after the seventh duel arena of a labyrinth-like building morphed into a serene field—pure wide open space—Harry saw a different sort of girl. She was a beautiful blonde girl—perhaps a year younger than Harry, he couldn't quite tell. Her sparkling blue eyes met Harry's green eyes, and while she did flash him a brilliant smile, it was not a shy, embarrassed, or _girly_ smile. It was simply an acknowledging smile; as quickly as it had come, it was gone, for the horn had sounded, and the girl went into duel mode, concentrating on her new enemy.

Harry watched her with growing curiosity for the final three rounds, trying to be inconspicuous about it. She was talented, but not exceptionally so. She was a hard worker, but had a smile on her face every time she passed someone she knew.

Her final duel was against Ginny, coincidentally. And while she did lose after a short while, she grinned up at Ginny and they exchanged pleasantries—confirming to Harry that she must be in fifth year with Ginny.

Harry shook his head, reminding himself he had a class to teach. He waved his hand quickly, and the tropical beach setting melted away, and the Great Hall took shape once more. The numbers 0 through 10 appeared in the air, hovering around the Great Hall about fifteen feet in the air.

Harry reactivated the voice enhancing charm before addressing the class again. "Great job, everyone! I am grateful that there were no serious injuries beyond a little blood and bruising. Nothing a few charms and rest won't take care of. You can expect a lot of that from this class, so if you don't want it, then this class isn't for you.

"Now, you see the numbers above us, zero to ten. If you will please go to the number that matches the number of duels you won, then you will find your new group and team members." The students all began moving to their numbers.

"Together you will teach each other what you can, learn from each other, as I come to instruct and give assignments. Leaders will emerge, talents will be discovered. If you progress faster than your group, you will move up, and if the group progresses faster than you, you will move down."

Harry watched as the groups 3 to 6 filled more completely than the others. No one had won all ten of their duels, as Harry expected would happen. There was just too much randomness in these battles. Therefore, ten groups were formed, numbers 0 to 9. Harry smiled when he noted Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all fell into the top group. It would seem their experience had helped them. Harry figured it was not just from the night at the Ministry, but from the countless hours they would have spent since then reliving the battles and wondering what they could have done better. In doing that exercise, they sharpened their instinct.

Harry also noted the pretty blonde girl he had been watching was in group six, a 5 hanging over her head. Harry nodded, thinking that that's where he would have put her after watching her duel a few times.

When the students all stopped shifting around, Harry spoke a final time. "My goal for tonight was not just to put you into your new groups, but to open your eyes to the chaotic and random nature of battle. I would be lying if I didn't credit some of my own escapes to luck. But I would also be wrong not to credit quick reacting and willingness to fight as the reason to my having survived Voldemort a few times." Despite the scared murmur in the crowd from his mentioning Voldemort's name, Harry continued on. "I hope as you all return to your common rooms tonight, you will think about these duels, replay them in your minds, and think of how you could improve. Then practice alone or with your friends those things you need to work on. The real work in this class will be done by you, not me.

"You are all free to go, though I recommend getting to know some of the people in your new group, as you will be helping each other a lot over the semester. Good work everyone!"

The next thirty minutes passed quickly for Harry as he walked among the groups, which slowly dispersed. He was thanked and congratulated by countless students for the class's success. His brain was picked by numerous others who wanted early advice on things they needed to improve on. When Harry arrived at group six, he briefly engaged the blonde girl in discussion.

"Good work out there," Harry said with a smile. "I saw that duel with Ginny—you put up a great fight."

The girl smiled at the praise, and Harry was again relieved that she wasn't blushing and stammering in his presence. It was refreshing. "Thanks," she responded. "Ginny's always been the best at Defense." She looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing with a smile. "And charms, transfiguration, potions…" She let out a beautiful laugh and Harry couldn't help but join in.

"Well, you did great, too…er…what was—"

Harry had been looking to ask her name, but was interrupted by an excited Neville—who had apparently also made it into the sixth group. Harry looked apologetically back at the girl who merely smiled at him before turning away with her friends. Harry followed her out of the Great Hall with his eyes while half-heartedly listening to Neville's excitement about how much better he did than he expected.

Twenty minutes had passed before the hall had cleared out completely but for the Ministry Six. Neville happily chatted with Luna about the duels, while Ron and Hermione chatted excitedly about the first class. Ron still couldn't let go of his one loss to a seventh year, while Hermione blamed the icy ground for her one loss. She had slipped early and left herself open.

This left Ginny alone with Harry as they sat, tired, in the nearly empty Great Hall.

"…and then I tried to transfigure the water into something I could use against him, but I was too late. The force of the splash pushed me back long enough for him to disarm me. It was stupid really…I should've just tried to block it."

"No," Harry said, impressed that she had won nine duels and tried such advanced dueling techniques. He had only just learned them this summer. "You tried something new. That's how we're going to improve."

Ginny flashed him a brilliant smile. "Thanks, Harry. You know you did a great job today."

Harry smiled warmly back at her. Then a thought occurred to him. "Hey, Gin, who was that girl you fought in the last duel?"

Ginny's smile faltered slightly and her eyebrows furrowed. "Um…that was…Abigail. Abby. From Hufflepuff. She's in my year."

Harry nodded and looked off at the door leading out of the Great Hall. Harry smiled slightly.

"Why do you ask?" Harry turned back to look at Ginny, who had a sly grin plastered on her face.

"Oh…" Harry gave a short laugh. "I dunno. Something about her made me feel…comfortable? I guess…"

Harry had come to love Ginny's smile—so carefree and beautiful. That was why he could tell that her current smile was fake. He wondered if she knew something about Abby that he might not like.

But instead, she said, "I'll find out from the network what she thinks about you." She hesitated for a moment before cheekily adding, "Though if _every other _girl is any indication, I think she might like you."

Harry pushed Ginny playfully in the shoulder, unhappily recalling the many girls of Hogwarts who couldn't behave normally in his presence. "Don't remind me. This year is going to be hell…" He contemplated for a moment before adding, "But I think that's why this girl stood out—she wasn't like the other girls."

Ginny merely nodded before asking, "So, what are your future plans for the class?" Before responding, Harry couldn't help but wonder why she had changed the subject so quickly.


	12. Through the Listening Glass

**A/N: This chapter is pretty important to the story as a whole. First of all, it expands the mythology of this universe, giving us a sense of the bigger picture. Secondly, it starts to detail the war a little more. And finally, it will show that whatever "obstacles" appear between Harry and Ginny, that relationship will still be growing, and this story will always be more about them than any other relationship. I hope you enjoy as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think!**

Chapter 11: Through the Listening Glass

"There is no need to rush and make the boy paranoid."

"But you know my son will gladly help. He's been trained."

"We'll give my backup one more attempt. _Then_, your son will have his opportunity."

"He'll be happy to hear the update, my Lord."

-0-0-0-

A picnic. Harry shook his head in awe at the situation. Just a week earlier, he had killed a Death Eater while outing him as a mole in the Ministry. Now, Harry lay on a blanket, enjoying the beautiful autumn weather with a beautiful girl, eating sandwiches. Harry smiled at Abby as she popped a grape in her mouth.

"So, Abby, what's your favorite class?" It was a safe subject, a classic first date question.

Harry was not experienced with dating, of course. But between his summer banter with Tonks and Ginny, learning some moves from Sirius, and a quick chat with Hermione, he felt pretty confident about how to conduct himself. In his mind, asking her had been the toughest part.

Ginny had done as she said she would, and through a friend of a friend, found that Abby had indeed been talking about Harry and his DART class. Apparently, he had made a very good impression on her. "So you're free to ask her out without worry," Ginny had said.

_Yea, without worry,_ Harry had thought, his stomach suddenly feeling oddly uneasy. But Ginny interrupted his thoughts with an interesting comment.

"You're acting fast for a guy who said he wasn't going to pursue anything this summer."

Harry had to admit that he surprised even himself. But it just sort of felt right—normal almost.

And that's exactly how Harry felt about his first date with Abby. He felt normal. "Charms," Abby responded to his question, before expanding on the exciting nature of the subject. She wanted to be a Healer, or perhaps a Healer's Assistant depending on which way life took her.

She didn't once bring up the war, Harry's history, or even Harry's class that he taught. While she enjoying watching quidditch matches, she wasn't an avid fan, and didn't even dwell on the subject of Harry being a Seeker prodigy. She genuinely wanted to get to know him, and asked the same first date questions that he was asking her—as if he wasn't the boy-who-lived, the Chosen One.

It was refreshing, and Harry liked it very much. Harry liked _her_ very much.

He and Abby could speak with ease, about the most meaningless, everyday occurrences. They shared some interests, and found their differing interests to be exciting rather than dull.

"I had a great time today, Harry," Abby said after Harry had walked her back to the Hufflepuff common room. They had spent the entire Sunday afternoon together, and Harry had had a wonderful time. "I'm so glad you asked me out today."

Harry smiled at her and they stopped walking in the corridor. There was a painting of a young, slender woman directly to Harry's left who was watching them intently. Harry knew the news of his date would reach much of Hogwarts before the end of the day, but he didn't care too much. He grabbed Abby's hands in his own and gave them a gentle squeeze. "I'm happy I did, too."

Then, with the Gryffindor courage he knew he had, he leaned forward gently and pressed his lips to hers. It was a chaste kiss, not lasting more than a moment, but when they backed away from each other, both were smiling widely.

"I hope we can do this again?" Harry asked, more than said.

Abby nodded, somewhat shyly. "Yeah. Me too."

Harry grinned and led her the last few steps to the Hufflepuff common room opening. "Great. I'll see you later, then."

She smiled brightly back at him before giving a password to the statue of a siren, which glided to the side. With a final glance backwards at Harry, Abby disappeared into the Hufflepuff common room entrance. Harry stared at the statue as it slid back into place for a few moments before he realized he was smiling stupidly. He quickly adjusted his face, and made his way back to Gryffindor tower.

When he arrived in the common room, the smile had somehow made its way back onto his face. "You look like you had a good time," his best mate said, amusement in his voice. He was sitting on a couch with Hermione, who had a book in front of her, though her eyes were now on Harry, her eyebrows raised in curiosity. Ginny and Dean looked up from the love seat they were cuddling on, adjacent to Ron and Hermione.

Harry checked the smile, before grinning back at Ron anyway. "You know what? I did. I had a great afternoon."

Harry walked around the back of the couch to take an empty armchair that sat facing the others. He let out a contented sigh.

"So…what did you do?" Hermione pressed.

Harry was a private person. He probably would have shared this information with Hermione and Ron, but for some reason, with Ginny sitting there with Dean, he didn't want to open up about his date. Harry thought this odd, considering Ginny knew some things, a couple _big_ things, about him that were much more personal than this. But, he felt what he felt.

"Just an afternoon picnic. We chatted a lot. It was nice," Harry said evasively.

But Hermione wanted more. "Will you ask her out again?"

"Yeah. I think I will." Not wanting to answer any more questions at the moment, Harry changed topics. "Now, I see that you are doing homework. I think I'll go grab my books and come back to join you."

Ron scoffed. "You too? What am I supposed to do, just sit here while you study?"

Now it was Hermione's turn to scoff. "Or you could study _with_ us, Ronald."

Ron glared at Hermione as Harry stood up, and Harry was surprised to hear Ron concede. "Fine. Wait up, mate."

They walked up the staircase together, Ron excitedly talking about Harry's date. "I'm happy for you, mate. I think it's good that you've found someone you like."

Harry smiled, touched at Ron's odd consideration. "Thanks Ron."

"You'd better not desert me, though," Ron said as he opened the dorm room.

"Wouldn't dream of it, ma—" Harry didn't finish his thought, however. He was too busy experiencing déjà vu.

Much like in his second year, Harry found his belongings torn out of his trunk and dresser, strewn across the floor. Harry immediately went to his trunk and started searching for his belongings.

It didn't take long to find two objects missing. The first was the Marauder's Map. This worried Harry immensely for two reasons. Not only would Harry not be able to use it, now, to find out who was doing things like this, but if the thief learned how to use it, he would be able to easier track Harry.

The second stolen object was the broken two-way mirror that Sirius had given him to communicate with. Harry probably wouldn't have realized this had gone missing except that he had just gotten it back from Fred and George the previous week, who had been using them to work on developing similar products for Harry.

"What's missing?" came Ron's worried voice after a few minutes of searching.

"Map and the two-way mirror," Harry said, standing up. "But what's so odd is that they left my stealth cloak. And my money. Why would someone take a blank parchment and a broken mirror, but not the valuable things?" Harry wanted to scream. He felt sick. After his room was raided the first time, he had carefully kept everything locked or hidden. But over the years, he'd grown more and more complacent. He was such a fool! He even knew the magic necessary to prevent something like this. He was just lazy and stupid.

"Well," Ron said slowly. "My guess is that this is the same person who tried to attack you."

Harry looked confusedly back at Ron. "I mean, they definitely weren't here to steal from you. That just goes to show they are looking to sabotage you some other way."

Harry nodded. Ron's logic made sense. They must have known what the mirror and map were…or else they at least knew that they were odd things to have in a trunk, and desired further investigation.

Harry's head shot up. "Sirius still has the other mirror; I've got to warn him."

Harry took off down the stairs, rushing out of the common room, taking two shortcut tunnels behind a tapestry and fake wall, and hurrying to Sirius' new quarters, hoping he was there.

Harry pounded on the door, panting heavily from his mad dash. He didn't want to risk the thief overhearing any Order plans that Sirius might be unsuspectingly divulging. Harry waited for a moment before pounding on the door again. Sirius soon opened the door a crack. His hair was a mess, his clothes disheveled. "Sirius!" Harry shouted, trying to push into his room.

Harry had not yet cleared the air with Sirius and Dumbledore, so his appearance would come as quite a shock to the ex convict. As such, Sirius allowed him to walk right into his room, where Harry saw Sarah Sellers sitting on the couch, her own hair and clothes a mess.

It took Harry just a moment before a smirk came to his face. "Looks like I've interrupted your alone time. Sorry, Sirius." Harry wasn't really sorry. He had frankly become quite repulsed by Sirius' and Sarah's displays of affection as he had spent much of last summer at Grimmauld Place. They had been in their honeymoon phase, and unable to keep their hands off each other whenever she visited. Harry had been happy for his godfather, if a little surprised by the relationship. "Here I thought _I_ was supposed to be the hormonal teenager. Good to see you, Sarah."

"Harry," Sirius said, not a hint of shame in his voice as Sarah nodded her greeting. If anything, there was a touch of pride in the way he spoke. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what brings you unannounced to my room."

Harry smirked. "Believe me, Sirius. It's not _me_ you are happy to see. But," Harry said, growing serious and ignoring Sarah's shocked gasp and Sirius' eyeroll. "I'm here because my mirror was stolen, and I wanted to make sure no one was listening in on you sharing any revealing information. Though…"Harry began with his sarcasm returning. "What they heard may have been revealing—just not about the Order."

Sirius narrowed his eyes as he walked to his dresser. "Shut it, Harry," he said as he opened his drawer and looked at the mirror. It was inactive.

"You should destroy it now," Harry said.

"No," Sarah interrupted, while standing from the couch and fixing her skirt and blouse to remove the wrinkles.

Sirius nodded. "Yes, we can use this against them. Your mirror was broken, right Harry?"

Harry nodded, and began to understand. "Right, so we can activate it and see who has it, and they won't see us!"

Sirius nodded. "And if they are smart enough to cover it, then we can wait for them to activate it, and then send misinformation through to them." Sirius waved his wand, casting an alarm charm on the mirror to alert him of its activation.

Harry smiled. "You Marauder, you!"

Sirius took a bow with a flourish of his arm. And then everything changed. The situation was over—and all memory of their present relationship returned. It seemed to dawn on all three occupants at once—as Harry suspected Sarah knew exactly how he and Sirius were feeling at the moment. She proved this as she cleared her throat. "I think I'm going to take a look around the castle. It's been too long…"

Harry and Sirius both looked at her and nodded. Harry was certain to let his gratitude towards her shine through. He had grown to like the woman over the summer. While he was never comfortable with her knowing exactly what he was feeling, she didn't abuse the gift. And in situations like this, she used it to help him instead of take advantage of him. He had begun to trust her.

When she looked him in the eyes, Harry knew she felt his uncertainty and nervousness about the situation. She smiled back at him reassuringly before giving Sirius a quick peck on the cheek and leaving them alone.

They stayed silent in the room for what felt like hours. In actuality, it was merely seconds before Sirius broke the tension. "We don't need to talk about this if you're not ready yet, Harry."

"I went on a date today, Sirius," Harry said, seemingly changing the subject and taking a seat on the now vacant couch in Sirius' room. It smelled of Sarah, and this disturbed Harry slightly.

"Oh?" Sirius asked, not a little confused at the change of subject. He leaned against the wall next to his dresser. "How did it go?"

Harry smiled and looked up at his godfather. Harry didn't need to be a Detector like Sarah to know that Sirius was more anxious than himself. "It was wonderful. She's a fifth year, Abby Smith."

Sirius nodded, and a smile graced his face. "She's a cute one, Harry." He lifted his eyebrows, prompting Harry to continue.

"Yeah, she is. But that's not the best thing about her, Sirius. She made me feel…normal, today." Sirius furrowed his brow, and Harry continued. "No mentions of my fame or name, no prompting to learn about my adventures. We just had a nice afternoon together like a couple of normal teenagers going to Hogwarts."

"That sounds wonderful, Harry."

Harry nodded, and his smile faded. "But you know the truth, Sirius? I'm not normal."

Silence pervaded in the room. Sirius seemed to be contemplating his statement, so Harry expounded on it. "It was so nice to escape for an afternoon. But at the end of the day, I'm the Chosen One. My life is different from everyone else's.

"Ginny put it like this," Harry said, recalling how she had helped him understand Sirius' and Dumbledore's action. "While most parental figures would force their child to learn an instrument or take a hard class at school because it will help them in the long run, _my_ parental figures will force me on a life-threatening mission to retrieve irretrievable information to help in a war effort because it will help me in the long run. You see, I'm _not _normal."

Sirius stared at Harry with his mouth slightly open for a moment before he began shaking his head. He let out a bark of laughter. "Here I thought I'd have to spend hours trying to justify my reasoning to you, and apologize a million more times. Ginny's a smart girl," Sirius concluded, raising his eyebrows at Harry.

Harry laughed slightly. "Yeah. She is. I don't know what I'd be feeling if it wasn't for her." Harry's smile faded though. "But I'd still like to hear it from your mouth, Sirius. I'm still not happy or okay with what you did."

Sirius nodded solemnly. "And I'm still sorry about it, Harry. Dumbledore said—"

"I don't want to hear why Dumbledore wanted to trick me," Harry interrupted. "I want to know why _you _did it."

Sirius nodded again and took a deep breath. "I'm not going to lie to you, Harry. I had my doubts. And it took some…_extra_ convincing from Dumbledore for me to agree. But those doubts were not at all in your ability. The only person who knows about your training who doubted your ability to succeed in the mission was you. And those doubts were the only thing that would have prevented your success."

Harry opened his mouth, but found himself shutting it. He knew it was true. He hadn't felt ready. He specifically remembered thinking that he was improving, but not yet ready to enter the war efforts directly.

"In hindsight, do I believe there were other ways to instill the confidence in you? Yes. Do I believe there were any quicker or more effective ways to do it? Not one bit. You've experienced a mission now. You know that you can succeed."

Harry frowned. "But I _didn't_ succeed. I made mistakes, and ruined the stealth aspect of the mission."

"Harry," Sirius said with a spark to his voice that Harry hadn't heard at all in his first week of school. "By avoiding Dumbledore and me, you have missed out on some very valuable information about the great success of your mission. You have set us up to be very much ahead of Voldemort in his takeover of the Ministry. All thanks to your quick thinking and ability."

Harry felt a strange sense of pride swirl in his core as a smile came across his face. "Really?"

Sirius nodded with a smile. "If you're ready to face the headmaster tonight, he is getting back from a meeting with Kingsley and can fill you in on everything."

Harry felt a sense of excitement that he had been missing for the past week fill him. He nodded and stood to leave. "That'd be great. What time?"

"Seven. And Harry?"

Harry stopped at the door and looked back at his godfather. "Thank you for understanding," the man said as sincerely as Harry had ever seen him. Harry knew in that moment he had forgiven him.

Harry smiled and nodded back at the man. "One day, I might even thank you back."

On that note, Harry left his godfather's quarters and walked back towards the common room. He felt lighter than he had all week, and he let out a breath that seemed to have been building up steadily in his lungs for that entire time.

Before long, he found his way back to the portrait of the Fat Lady. Before he could give the password, her portrait flew open and Ginny came climbing out of the common room entrance. "Hey Ginny," Harry said happily when she was standing in front of him.

Ginny looked at Harry anxiously, but seemed to sigh in relief when she saw his happy expression. "Oh, Harry! I was so worried about you when Ron said you went to see Sirius."

Harry smiled warmly back at Ginny. "Well, thanks to you, our talk went really well. We cleared the air about everything."

Ginny smiled back and pulled Harry into a hug. Harry held her tightly and took a deep breath of her scent. He had missed the smell. They hadn't begun working out together again yet, and since Ginny was always with Dean, Harry didn't think it would be appropriate to be hugging his girlfriend. He certainly wasn't complaining now, relishing the warmth, and thinking how perfectly she seemed to fit against him.

"We didn't know what else to do to help you, so we put all your stuff away. Ron thought he knew how it was all organized so…"

Harry took a final deep breath and pulled back from the hug, but kept his hands on her arms. "Well, I hope you put away my unmentionables so that they smell as good as you."

Ginny narrowed her eyes, but Harry saw a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, naturally they were the first things I went to."

Harry had been joking, but now that he said it out loud, he was somewhat concerned that she had seen or touched his underwear. But, he couldn't let her know that. "Well, if you ever find yourself wanting a peak, you don't need to tear my room apart. Just come to me and I'll be happy to show you." Harry waggled his eyes suggestively.

Ginny smirked back. "And if you ever feel our relationship is unbalanced because I've seen yours and you haven't seen mine, you come to _me_ and I'm sure we can find a fun way to even the playing field."

Harry felt his mouth go slightly dry at the suggested thought of seeing Ginny in just her knickers. He couldn't help it, and his mind suddenly formed the image without his permission. He cleared his throat quickly and changed the subject to hopefully rid his imagination of the image. "Ahem…so I've been thinking of starting our workouts again. You still interested?"

Ginny smiled victoriously. "First of all, you lose." Harry scowled at her, but said nothing. She had won, fair and square. She had made him flinch. "Secondly, yes. Of course. And I want you to teach me how to transfer magical energy into physical energy so we can do the workouts earlier, and not cut into my already busy schedule."

Harry shook his head. He had agreed with Dumbledore not to extend the experiment to his friends. It was going great for him. He didn't know how he would survive with all of his extracurricular activities if it wasn't for the added time he got from avoiding sleep with magic. But he had promised. "No, Gin. Sorry. I promised Dumbledore that I wouldn't—"

"Oh, don't go telling me you can't break a rule. I know for a fact there have been no negative side effects from it, and," she continued looking Harry up and down, "there have been some very _positive_ results." Harry rolled his eyes to keep a blush from revealing his flattered feelings.

"I don't know, Gin…"

"Let me make this easy on you, Harry," she said with a smile and confident gaze. "If you don't teach me, I will tell Ron who trapped him in his room with Hermione for seven hours this summer."

"That was both of us!" Harry shouted, outraged. "And our plan of framing Fred and George couldn't have gone off more smoothly! You can't ruin that."

"Oh, it was a wonderful plan, Harry, and I'd hate to see it go to waste. But who would my dear brother believe? His sweet, loving sister, or his devious best mate?"

"His devious best mate," Harry responded immediately, seeing the grand flaw in Ginny's plan.

Ginny looked thoughtful for a moment. "True, that. Well, I guess I'll just have to tell him it was both of us and take the hit with you."

"You wouldn't," Harry narrowed his eyes at Ginny. He was oddly turned on by her blackmailing him, and he didn't quite know how he felt about that.

Ginny looked at Harry with a pitying glance. "Oh Harry, you know I would."

The truth of the matter was that Harry was happy to teach Ginny—and that he would spend a dozen more hours with her each week was a bonus he couldn't turn down. He had missed their workout sessions. But even more than this desire, Harry was grateful to Ginny for what blackmail she was using against him. It would be much easier to use his recent fight at the Ministry as blackmail—considering Harry hadn't told Ron and Hermione about it, and didn't think he wanted to. At least not yet. When Hermione read about it in the Daily Prophet the morning after they got to Hogwarts, she had immediately launched into detective mode, anxious to discuss it and its meaning in the war. Harry had stayed absolutely silent, still feeling guilty and woozy about the situation.

It touched Harry that Ginny didn't try to use something so sensitive to him as blackmail. Even if it would have benefited her more easily.

"Fine," he conceded with a smile. Ginny gave a short squeal and hugged Harry again.

When she pulled back, she had a mischievous glint in her eyes. "While I'm listing demands…"

Harry closed his eyes and groaned good-naturedly.

-0-0-0-

Albus Dumbledore was a decision maker. He took all the information he had—which was quite a lot, if he did say so himself—and acted on it. He made mistakes, as all decision makers do, but he got things done. Over the years he had made less and less mistakes, become surer of his decisions, and more confident in his abilities—mostly due to the aid of Magic.

But Harry Potter continually made him second-guess himself.

Albus had long been in tune with the will of Magic. It was his role, after all, to help carry out some of the duties that Magic simply couldn't do on its own. He was a physical being who could make plans and communicate with other people. So, when the stars aligned to prophesy of Harry's ultimate fate, Dumbledore was to prepare the boy.

Magic did what it could, as it kept watch over Harry at Privet Drive. The boy was somewhat malnourished by his guardians' neglect, moreso emotionally than physically. Magic kept him healthy, however, and he arrived at Hogwarts in fine enough shape. Magic knew of Voldemort's desire for the philosopher's stone that year, so Magic guided Albus, as the chosen Leader of the Light in this region, to hide the stone at Hogwarts.

Then, Magic surprised Albus as it prompted him to help the boy defeat Voldemort. So, Dumbledore hid the stone behind a series of challenges that would stretch Harry, but that he could accomplish. And to Albus' delight, Harry succeeded. And he succeeded in the most selfless manner possible—not once thinking of himself as he brought down the Dark Lord for a second time.

Albus suspected that that is when the shift began. Magic prompted him a little less from that point on. The following year, it wasn't Dumbledore who was guided to the Chamber to rescue young Miss Weasley. No, Magic had chosen Harry—perhaps a new Leader of the Light.

Albus had followed Magic's will, however. He gave assistance to the boy, knowing that he would need the help of Fawkes. But he was commanded to leave Hogwarts—no doubt Magic's doing.

And it continued, as young Harry grew a little more. It wasn't Albus that Magic led to Sirius Black, to discover the truth of the Secret Keeper. Albus once again offered his help, providing wisdom and advice that only he could.

But the shift continued. Harry Potter was being chosen and molded by Magic to be the next Leader of the Light. To keep the balance in this region of the world. And Dumbledore happily began to relinquish his role. Of course, he still had much to do for the boy, as he became the Chosen One.

And that's where Albus' decision making came into play. But, as his own role diminished, so did his understanding of Magic's will. Meanwhile, his growing admiration and love for the boy had made his connection with Magic even more muddled. Hence, Harry Potter made him less and less sure of his decisions. Meanwhile, Harry was becoming more and more confident in his own decisions. He was beginning to understand Magic's will. He just didn't know that was what was happening to him. He wasn't quite ready yet.

So, when Harry asked why he had been tricked into the mission at the Ministry, Dumbledore gave him the simple explanation for his actions. They mirrored those of Sirius' intentions, simply to instill confidence in the boy and let him experience a victory without fear of failure. He left out the part that Harry was being prepared by Magic to take over as Leader of the Light.

"I understand, Professor," Harry said, and Albus wanted to jump for joy. "I might not like it, still. But I get why you deceived me, and I'm ready to move on." When Sirius had explained that Harry forgave him, Albus was still worried that that forgiveness might not extend to himself. But the boy was growing, and understanding his future role more and more.

Someday soon, Harry would take a trip to the Department of Mysteries, to open a locked door.

"I thank you, Harry. I do believe you deserve to know what has come of your actions last week, however."

Harry leaned forward in his chair. "I'd like that very much, sir. But I want to make it very clear that I get _all_ the information from now on. I refuse to be used again in the future without knowing what I'm getting myself into."

Dumbledore heard him loud and clear, and felt—with his remaining connection to Magic's will—that that was surely the right thing to do moving forward.

"Of course, Harry. I give you my word." Harry nodded, satisfied, so Albus continued. "Kingsley has just updated me on the situation at the Ministry. We have confirmed that Rogers was indeed a Death Eater, as you deduced."

"What about the other two?" Harry asked, nervous that they would get off easy.

Albus smiled. He knew Harry would appreciate their plan. "They were gone when the Aurors arrived on the scene. We have announced nothing of their presence that night. In fact, the official Auror report claims that Rogers and the mystery vigilante were the only people present that night. There is a team of Aurors now looking for the vigilante—at least, that is the report.

"In actuality, they are tracking the moles in the Ministry, and keeping it very close to the chest. Tonks is heading the investigation, and has already discovered the identity of the man you burned and two others, one of whom we believe to be your other assailant that night."

"Who are they?" Harry asked, engrossed in Albus' information.

"The man you burned is Eldon Carson. From healing and concealment charms, he continues to work in the Department of Transportation seemingly unsuspected. But Tonks has used a fascinating new technology—a pair of goggles that can see where glamour charms, among other charms, have been applied. She quickly located Carson and put him under surveillance.

"It was then discovered that he spoke often with Hal Harton from the Apparation Licenses office. Upon closer examination, they occasionally discussed their encounter with you this past week. This revealed two useful nuggets of information: they did not know your identity, and they were indeed the two you fought."

"And how did you find the third? And what's the plan from here?" Harry asked anxiously. Dumbledore was happy to see that Harry seemed rather proud of his mission. Now, he wanted to know of its progress as if it was still his own responsibility.

"Under the cover of seeking help to track down illegal apparation, Harton has been meeting regularly with Dana Driver in the DMLE. We've moved Henry Cooper to be her partner so that he can keep a closer eye on her and report any further developments to us.

"Going forward, we plan to discover as many Death Eaters as possible who are working in the Ministry. That way, before they make their move to take over the Ministry, we can cripple their infrastructure—leaving them without the means of a true takeover. They simply don't have the manpower to take down the organization from outside without interior help."

Harry leaned back on his chair and his face appeared contented. "It feels good, sir. Knowing we can stop their move."

Albus smiled at Harry and nodded. "With Lord Voldemort, we must always be ready for his backup plans. I have no doubt that he will bounce right back once he's realized we've beat him to the punch. But yes, Harry, it feels great to have a head start on him for once. And it's all thanks to you."

"Enough flattery," Harry said dismissively while waving a hand, though Albus knew the boy was proud of his accomplishments now that they had been put in the perspective of the war. "Were you able to recover my invisibility cloak?"

"I'm afraid it was noticed by the Auror who investigated with Kingsley. We've been sure that it can't lead back to you, but it will be kept in evidence for three months before they move it to archives. Then Kingsley will get it back to you."

Harry nodded. "First my map, now my cloak. However will I break the rules now?"

Albus smiled. "I'm sure you'll find a way."

-0-0-0-

It took weeks for Sirius' mirror to be activated by its partner. In fact, Harry was just about ready to head down to the quidditch pitch for his first game when it happened in mid October. Sirius and Harry had long since planned out how they would react when the mirror activated, and it was simply fortunate that they had a mundane activity to discuss when it did. That was part of their plan.

Harry had just gotten back from a training session at Grimmauld Place with Sirius, entering straight into Sirius' quarters as they did twice per week. After they emerged from the floo network, Sirius silently motioned towards the mirror, lying face down on his dresser still. But now, it had a green glow surrounding it—indicating that someone on the other side had gotten through.

Instantly, Harry acted as though they were in the middle of a conversation, to keep the listening thief unaware that they were aware the thief was listening in. "And the Hufflepuff keeper isn't talented enough to keep it a low-scoring game."

"What about Ron?" Sirius asked, without missing a beat.

"Well, my dear captain is…pretty bipolar if I'm being honest." And Harry was being honest. Ron would be brilliant one day at practice, stopping even Ginny, who was Gryffindor's best Chaser by far. Then the next practice, he wouldn't be able to stop a single goal. His mental state was all over the place. "I wouldn't be able to make an accurate prediction to save my life. But I am confident that our Chasers will be able to keep up with theirs even on Ron's worst day."

"So the game is completely up to you, then?" Sirius asked. Harry smiled and knew that now would be the time they needed to move the conversation towards the war as organically as possible. "Ever get tired of the responsibility?"

"Nah," Harry said dismissively. He wanted to come across as arrogant. That would likely be how the person listening in would perceive him anyway, and wanted to pander to their preconceived notions. "After being tasked with surviving attacks by Voldemort and teaching hundreds of students to prepare themselves for war, I've stopped getting game day nerves."

The last part of Harry's statement was true, actually. He found quidditch to be so absolutely inconsequential at this point due to his mounting responsibilities, that it was truly an escape for him. He felt no additional burden from representing his house in the great tradition. Instead, it was simply fun—and Harry _had_ had a lot of fun with it all semester long.

Ron had been doing a great job of captaining. He had built a strong team, and trained the new recruits as well as anyone could expect, given the amount of turnover from the previous year's team. Ron had even taught Harry a thing or two about immersive seeking—becoming more a part of the offensive schemes than ever before. It was a lot of fun.

"And how are the DART classes going?" Sirius asked, keeping the conversation going and halting Harry's train of thought regarding quidditch. Before Harry answered, he briefly wondered just how much they would talk about Harry's personal life in order to remove any suspicion the listener might have about the authenticity of the conversation. He hoped that Abby wouldn't be brought up at all—even though it was a common conversation topic between Harry and his godfather when no one was listening in. That information should be kept private, though, and Harry certainly didn't want to put any larger of a target on Abby's back by mentioning her in front of possible Death Eaters.

In the end, Harry's concern was unfounded, as they seamlessly guided the conversation to the important details they _wanted_ the thief to hear. "It's going as well as can be expected. I mean…I've got some experience with fighting, but I don't even know what's going on in the war until after the fact—from you sometimes, but mostly the paper."

"Harry, you know Dumbledore doesn't want me telling you—"

"I don't care!" Harry shouted, sounding very frustrated. "I'm supposed to be teaching these kids tactics and defense when I don't even know what you guys are doing!"

There was long pause, Sirius smirked a little and nodded. It was time to reveal the misinformation. Sirius gave a dramatic sigh, perhaps embellishing the emotion of resignation a little for the mirror.

"Fine," he said, defeated. "You know I don't agree with Dumbledore about keeping you in the dark so much, anyway." Harry stayed silent, and waited for Sirius to go on. "We think we've discovered a pattern to Voldemort's muggle city attacks."

This much was true. Just like the attack on London just outside of Diagon Alley, most of the muggle attacks had occurred just outside of wizarding settlements. Harry knew this to be a scare tactic, demonstrating the power and numbers that Voldemort was gaining.

"We've done a decent job of responding quickly," Sirius continued. "But we want to have a victory, instead of just holding back Voldemort's advances."

"You mean going on the offensive?" Harry asked excitedly. "But that's a big risk."

"Yeah," Sirius lamented. "We have to move our normal watch from all over to concentrate on just these two areas we suspect."

"What areas?" Harry asked.

"You think I'm going to give you specifics, Harry? Dumbledore will have my head." It was a dangerous game they played. On the one hand, they couldn't have a conversation that would be too suspiciously informative. On the other hand, they wanted Voldemort to play into their hands. They would just have to trust Voldemort was smart enough to know where the Order suspected he would attack next, but not suspicious enough that he would see the ruse for what it was.

Harry laughed, again trying to keep the conversation organic. "Can't blame a bloke for trying, though. Promise me you'll let me know how it goes after he attacks?"

"Sure thing, Harry. Now, I think you have a game to prepare for. I'll see you down on the pitch."

Harry left for the locker rooms, where his team would join him within the next half hour. But he knew where Sirius was going. He was headed right for Dumbledore's office, where an emergency Order meeting was to be held. They would then break up into three groups, to defend the three most likely places that Voldemort would attack, assuming he got the information from whoever was listening in on Sirius and Harry's conversation.

Those three places would be wizarding towns. If Voldemort believed the Order would be defending muggle towns _near_ wizarding communities, then he would use the rare opportunity to attack actual wizarding towns, with temporary low Order security, that were far from muggle towns.

This left three villages that Harry had never visited. Hogsmeade was too close to Hogwarts and Dumbledore for Voldemort to feel comfortable attacking. Diagon Alley was too well-protected by the Ministry, ever since the Dementor attack. There were three other moderately-sized wizarding towns that Harry had only heard of, but never visited. Those would be heavily guarded by some incognito Order members and a few trusted Ministry members.

Tonks and Coop had discovered six more undercover Death Eaters in the Ministry already, and so trust was limited there. Therefore, most defenders were from the Order—whose numbers had been growing weekly since the war began.

Harry's thinking was soon interrupted when Colin Creevy bumped into him. Like Harry, the young man had grown a lot over the summer. But he was still an over-excited boy, who took too many pictures for Harry's liking. That was why he noticed that Colin didn't have his camera with him, which made his comment all the stranger.

"Oh…sorry, Harry. I'm just rushing off to the game. Gotta get the best seats, you know."

"Yeah," Harry said, still wondering where the boy's camera was. Not that he was complaining; the fewer pictures taken of him, the better.

"Well," Colin said, still a bit frazzled. He was clearly in a hurry. "Good luck, today, Harry!"

Harry thanked him as he continued on to the changing rooms—but he hardly thought he was the one who needed luck. His thoughts returned to Sirius and the Order. A large part of him wished he could be a part of the attack tonight. But he also knew that that wasn't his role in the war, yet.

His thoughts continued in this vein until his teammates arrived. One by one they filtered into the locker room, waiting for the game to start. Harry was surprised to find that Ginny and Dean were the last of the group to arrive, which sparked Harry's curiosity as to _why_ exactly they would be late. He certainly had an idea of what they were doing. Those types of activities should wait until _after_ the game, in his opinion—as celebration.

Ginny arrived first, somewhat winded. She apologized profusely for delaying Ron's pre-game speech, citing "losing track of time" as her reason for being late. Harry rolled his eyes at the excuse, and found himself frustrated that he was feeling jealous in any way about Ginny and Dean's relationship.

Harry was mature enough to admit to himself that he found Ginny very attractive. He was also mature enough to know that he always had a good time with Ginny. But in the first month and a half at Hogwarts, Harry and Ginny had spent a lot of time together. As a result, Harry explained his jealousy on the fact that Dean _also_ spent so much time with Ginny.

He would not admit to himself that he fancied her as more than a friend. To do so would not only hinder his own relationship with Abby, which was wonderful, but would also put a wrench in his great friendship with Ginny. For over a month, they had been training together for hours. Ginny had blackmailed him, not only into training her in magical to physical energy transfer, but also in beginning her on a more intense training program—learning things that Harry had learned over the summer. She had nowhere near the time that Harry had over the summer, but the added six hours from not sleeping every other day helped them to get a lot more work done than the average student.

What's more, they were keeping this extra time a secret from everyone—Harry had told only Sirius. In an odd sort of way, Harry almost felt like _the other guy_ with Ginny, even though their relationship never got physical, beyond suggestive banter. But, Harry thought the stolen time he had with Ginny explained his somewhat tense relationship with Dean, and the jealousy that sometimes sparked when he thought of them together.

Not a minute later, Dean also arrived, panting for breath, and blaming the need to send a letter home to his family for being late. Ron merely berated him and got into his pregame speech. Harry on the other hand, raised an amused eyebrow at Ginny, who looked back at him with complete innocence. She was a great actress: Harry would have thought her innocent of snogging Dean before the game if he didn't know better.

But, it was quidditch time. Not time to think about the Order. Not time to think about Dean and Ginny. And not time to think about Abby, either. Now was his release, and he would be damned if he didn't enjoy it.

-0-0-0-

Sirius sat in a pub, the _Daily Prophet_ opened up in front of him. He didn't read the paper, but peered out the windows of The Dragon's Fire into the streets of Drakeport. He, with a team of eleven others made up team Thestral, and sat hidden in the wizarding village, waiting for any disturbance. It was a risky plan that Sirius and Harry had concocted when they found the mirror to be stolen. But, with Dumbledore's confirmation, they went ahead with the plan.

In doing so, they left open several possible cities of attack. But, if Voldemort bit on their hook, it would prove to be a big hit to Voldemort's forces, which as of yet had not taken many hits.

In fact, the war had resulted in many muggle casualties, but because Order members responded so quickly, even those were limited. And, fearing losing his army before the war got started, Voldemort was pulling back early in each battle. Therefore, neither side had suffered any great losses, and only some innocents had been harmed in the crossfire—which was technically a win for Voldemort.

But Dumbledore was anxious to turn the tides just a little, and the stolen mirror had proven a great opportunity. The result of the plan would turn the tides, certainly. But the direction they turned was still pending.

Sirius briefly let his mind wander. He was so proud of the man Harry was becoming. He was smart and dedicated. Stronger than anyone he had ever seen at his age. But he still managed to find joy in life. Just earlier that day, Harry had made an impressive snitch catch before the Hufflepuff seeker had even seen him make a move. Gryffindor won 240-50. Harry gloated good-naturedly over his Hufflepuff girlfriend before they ran off to spend the evening together.

Sirius smiled when he thought of Abby. She was a great girl, and had made Harry very happy. Sirius was happy for his godson, that he could find a sense of normalcy in his crazy world. But, in Sirius' heart, he knew it wouldn't last the year. Harry needed more than normalcy, and Sirius suspected it was another, currently taken, girl that could offer him that.

His thoughts were interrupted when it happened. Multiple apparations triggered alarms set up by team Thestral, and the team went into action. Sirius immediately touched his wand to his ear, where a device the twins made for Harry rested. "Fourteen alarms in Drakeport, requesting half of teams Cloak and Dagger to apparate to the safe zone before placing apparation wards."

"Confirmed," came Kingsley's voice, followed by Moony's, "Roger that."

Twelve more alarms went off, but this time, Sirius knew them to be allies and not foes. "Team Cloak, run interference—protect the town without alerting the Death Eaters of our presence. Team Dagger—run cleanup. They can't find any downed allies until they're all taken or they'll run. Team Thestral, engage in operation infiltration. After Cooper puts up the apparation wards, activate your beacons and detectors."

While hearing the countless confirmations through his earpiece, Sirius pulled a pair of goggles out of his pocket, and put them on his head. They vanished the moment they were fastened, so it appeared they weren't on. But through them, Sirius could see a distinctive blue glow around his hand. Looking up, he saw faint red and blue hues appearing in directions all around him, revealing where his enemies and allies had apparated in. His beacon and detector were working.

Slipping out of the coffee shop, Sirius slinked through the streets, heading towards the alarm nearest him, where a red light was getting brighter and brighter. As he turned a corner, he saw a Death Eater raising his wand at a house, standing still in the brisk October air. The night was silent, but for a soft breeze and the muttering of an incantation. The house suddenly burst into flames, and Sirius heard frightened shouting coming from within just moments later.

Sirius continued to walk stealthily forward, and as he neared he spotted two things. A second blue aura suddenly appeared inside of the house, and the Death Eater outside of the house was not alone. Another stood directly behind the first.

The blue aura shining through Sirius' goggles was a member of team Cloak, and inside the house, the family that had lived there had been safely escorted out. Instead, the member of Cloak made screaming noises, and kept the fire from doing irreparable damage.

"Requesting aid on corner of Main and Scout Street" came the voice of the Cloak member inside the house.

Sirius whispered his response. "Two attackers. You split them up, and I'll take care of the rest."

Sirius watched as the blue light shining through the walls of the house moved away from the front door and opened the back door, screaming "Fire!"

The Death Eaters nodded at each other and one went to the back of the house while the other kept the flames growing on the front side, laughing. Sirius quickly moved in from behind the lone Death Eater. He was stunned and bound before he knew what hit him. Sirius took his wand and broke it. He then took his mask and put it on his face, and roughly transfigured his clothes to match the Death Eater's robes. He quickly levitated the stunned body into the burning house, just as he heard the same voice in his earpiece warn, "Death Eater returning to the front."

Sirius raised his wand and shot another blast of fire at the house just as the Death Eater came back around. It wasn't actually fire, but it would give off the appearance of flame for several minutes.

"Couldn't find anyone, Goyle," the man said. "They must have run for it. Come on, this house will be down in a few minutes."

Sirius nodded and followed the man. In his earpiece, he heard the Cloak member he had worked with update the entire Order of their success. "Sirius has got one down, I'll replace the other. One of team Thestral replace me in interference."

After one of Sirius' team members took the vacancy, Sirius quickly stunned the Death Eater he was following down the street. He repeated his safety precautions with bindings and broken wand before the other Order member arrived and took the mask. They stashed the body away for cleanup.

Over the communications, Sirius found that Thestral had taken three other Death Eaters' positions, and there were no casualties or suspicions yet. He and his ally took off running toward the nearest alarm.

They found another pair of Death Eaters roaming the street, chasing a small family out of their homes. Seeing no blue beacon around the family members, Sirius knew them to be innocents and not from team Cloak.

"Hey!" Sirius shouted just as the Death Eaters raised their wands. They turned their heads to see Sirius and his partner approaching. Sirius knew he was still too far out to engage in battle. They would be able to put up shields or dodge, given their battle positions. So he continued jogging towards them and said, "Not going to take all the fun, are you?"

"Goyle," the one laughed as he waved his wand at the father of the retreating family. "You selfish bastard. This one pulled his wand on us. Don't you think that gives me the right?"

Sirius struggled to understand the man, as the report of two more captured Death Eaters was given. But he managed. While he was intrigued that the Death Eater knew he was impersonating Goyle, and that they likely had a beacon system of their own in their masks, he was more concerned about the man now dangling in the air and screaming. It wouldn't be long before the screaming alerted the whole village. And once they were out of their houses, it would be time for the Death Eaters to retreat. And when they couldn't apparate, they would know to use emergency portkeys or figure out their ranks were being infiltrated.

In other words, the mission would be drawing to a close soon, and infiltration would turn to battle. So Sirius needed to act fast. He slowed his pace to reduce suspicion, now just fifteen feet away. "Yeah, go ahead then. His screaming is grating on my nerves," he said. The comment afforded him and his companion the time necessary to arrive in pointblank range. There was no shielding the stunners that came at that range.

The two Death Eaters hit the ground. "Two more down, requesting Thestrals and Dagger to take their positions and clean up on 5th Street by the park. By my count, we've only got five left. Keep it up."

Members of the Order filled these requests as Sirius and his partner set off again. After running for a minute, they saw two Death Eaters, but their aura was blue—and Sirius knew them to be team Thestral. Sirius waved to them, but before they waved back an urgent voice came across the communications.

"Four Death Eaters attacking Poor Richard's pub on 9th. We are two Cloaks, can only contain them for a few minutes before they discover us."

"All Thestrals and Cloaks converge on Poor Richard's. Don't attack until the two Cloaks give the go-ahead. All Daggers search out the remaining Death Eater. We don't want one guy running off for reinforcements or to explain how the operation went down. Move."

Sirius took off at a dead sprint, now grateful that he had begun working out in the morning like Harry had. He had three blocks to cover, and didn't know if there was enough time. Now that the apparation ward was in place, his only option was to run. Already, he had left his companion and the other two Thestrals in the dust.

As it turned out, Sirius made it there just in time. Poor Richards was blazing in flames, and Sirius knew them not to be fake. Windows were blown out, and Sirius saw a body lying in the frame of the entrance to the pub. "We can't hold them anymore. GO!" was his welcome. Only one other Thestral had arrived at that point, so it was an even four against four duel. Fortunately, they had a brief element of surprise on their side. Sirius let out several vicious curses while the two Cloaks emerged from the building, wands waving. Two Death Eaters fell immediately, but the other two managed to escape behind their less fortunate and fallen comrades. They turned on the spot, but shouted in fear as they didn't apparate away. The other Thestral dropped another Death Eater with a well placed stunner. The final Death Eater threw up a shield, and ran for cover down the street. Sirius gave chase, hoping to stop him before he activated a portkey.

Turning around a corner into an alleyway, Sirius released a bone breaking curse just as the Death Eater reached into his pocket. The curse wasn't normally lethal, but this particular spell hit the Death Eater high on the man's back breaking through the weakly held shield. Through Sirius' detector goggles, he saw the red aura of human life disappear before the activated portkey sent the dead Death Eater away.

"Deceased Death Eater is gone by portkey. Update on the last Death Eater!"

"We just got him!" Came a satisfied voice.

Sirius breathed a sigh of relief before responding. "All units move to cleanup. We want this place to look like nothing happened if Voldemort sends reinforcements. We have seconds, not minutes."

All Order members went to immediate work, and had everything but Poor Richard's back in order within one minute. Poor Richard's was burned but no longer burning. The body Sirius had seen in the entryway had been the bartender, and was immediately sent to St. Mungo's in critical condition. The apparation wards were removed; the wandless and bound Death Eaters were secured if still alive. The Order members were hidden. Then two more Death Eaters appeared, setting off the still-present location alarms.

"Closest units converge. Attack when confident."

Three Order members responded their proximity and soon had the two Death Eaters incapacitated.

After nearly twenty minutes of waiting, Sirius gave the okay to pack up. "Regular watch, you are still on duty. Everyone else, tremendous job. We have done a good work today, and finally taken a chunk out of Voldemort's forces."

There was a great cheer across the comms device. Sirius smiled broadly. "Drinks at Grimmauld Place for anyone not on duty!"

-0-0-0-

Lucius raised his eyebrows as the messenger got shot.

"I just want to know how in _the hell_ I lost sixteen Death Eaters, and the only evidence of an attack is a burned out pub! _Crucio!_"

Voldemort was angry. And understandably so. Upon receiving information from his operative in Hogwarts, he had thought he knew what the Order's plans were. He had boasted to Lucius of his brilliance of having a 'backup' in Hogwarts. _Well_, Lucius mused, _it would appear that brilliance was somewhat overstated._

Lucius would never doubt his master's power or smarts. But his pride? That was something that Lucius could question. True, the man had a backup plan in the event of his death. But that seemed to be a singular demonstration of humility. And even so, it was more a show of fear and insecurity than humility.

And now, his master was punishing a man who had nothing to do with the failed attack. In fact, this man was the first to be able to report on what had happened during the attack. Granted, his information was limited, but at least he had returned. He had gone cloaked in an expensive stealth cloak. The fact that he had gone unscathed in the cloak was more enlightening than the information he brought back. It meant that whoever had stopped them had some means of detecting—and Voldemort would certainly account for that in the future.

But for now, all he knew was that he had lost sixteen Death Eaters to an unknown force, with no knowledge of how his ranks had been depleted. The only Death Eater to return from his first volley had been dead. Was it a message from the Order that they weren't taking prisoners? Was it simply a fluke that the man died right as he activated the portkey?

These, along with many others, were questions that Voldemort had no answers for, and thus tortured the messenger who failed to answer any of them. Lucius wasn't a fan of torture—he had been on the receiving end a couple of times, and never saw the point. Yet one more action that his master took that he did not approve of.

After some time, the torture stopped. Voldemort turned to Lucius, fury in his eyes. "Now, Lucius. Now it is time for your son to prove he is able."

"Of course, my Lord."

In time, Lucius would make a decision. The Dark Lord was hidden and, therefore, a safer ally to have in their current state. And he _had _won the summer, so to speak. Many innocents dead, fear rising throughout the country. However, the Order was currently out-deceiving the Heir of Slytherin himself. The pros and cons of being on Voldemort's side were in a balance, swaying back and forth. Soon, they would come to a stop, and Lucius could act.

-0-0-0-

**A/N: I do love favorites and follows...but reviews are ****_so_**** much more fulfilling and helpful as an aspiring writer. Please do drop a note of your thoughts on the story!**


	13. Precaution

**A/N: Another big thanks to the reviews I got this week! You guys are awesome, and keeping me writing quickly! This chapter will deal with some of the fallout from the Order's successful attack on Voldemort, along with showcasing how two attractive, hormonal, and frankly in love, teenagers handle being around each other all the time while trying to deny their actual feelings. Enjoy!**

Chapter 12: Precaution

"If you would please pass this information on to Harry."

"What? Why me?"

"Because, Severus, I think it would be best coming from you. You are the one who got the information after all."

"Fine. I'll tell him after class. He'll probably do something stupid to warrant him staying after class to talk to me anyway."

"While I'm _sure_ that is the case, I think you'll find him outside of the Room of Requirement in just a few minutes."

"At this hour? Why?"

"He and Miss Weasley have been taking their war preparation very seriously, Severus."

-0-0-0-

"And they've moved them all to a new prison the Order has built under the Fidelius," Harry said, panting hard after his intense workout session with Ginny. Today was their "magic day", as they called it. They had woken at two in the morning, and performed the charm to transfer some magical power into physical energy. After having done it for two months, Harry was feeling the drain on his magic less and less, but Ginny still felt exhausted for much of the day whenever she did it.

"And the Ministry is okay with that?" Ginny asked, taking deep breaths of air as she grabbed the bottom of her feet and sat forward, stretching her legs out. Harry tore his eyes away from her flexible form, trying to keep his mind from wandering. It was difficult when she wore such short and formfitting workout clothing.

When their workouts started at two in the morning, they would simply go straight to the Room of Requirement to run and do the rest of their routine. That way they didn't have to deal with the locked doors of Hogwarts. After all, without Harry's map and cloak, they already had to travel with disillusionment and silencing charms to avoid detection. Sometimes Harry wished they would go outside to run, not just to enjoy the outdoors, but so Ginny would be forced to wear heavier clothing, thus making concentrating on the task at hand much easier.

"Fudge has got to be okay with it. The only way he's still in office is because the Order is pulling the strings now. He can either let them lift his legacy a hair, or get sacked and go out in shame." Harry laughed a little, enjoying that Fudge had received his comeuppance. "But those of the Death Eaters that survived are there now, rotting for all I care. I haven't been, but Sirius said it's as close to Azkaban as possible without the Dementors—so it's got to be pretty miserable there."

Ginny let out relieved sigh. "I can't tell you how good it feels to hear about a victory! And what's best is that it's their own fault. They stole the mirror and got themselves into this mess. You outsmarted them!"

Harry grinned as he stood up from his stretches. "I know; it feels great. Sirius' plan was brilliant. Both with the mirror and the operation. Voldemort has _no_ idea how his Death Eaters got taken, and now he's got to tread lightly wherever he attacks—it was genius."

Ginny stood up, put a determined face on, and took out her wand. Harry smirked at her, remembering her blackmailing him. Not only had she asked to learn the energy transfer charm, but she had gone on to demand Harry train her in fighting. So after each workout, while she was already quite drained of her magical power, she would demand they fight and Harry teach her.

She was remarkable in her determination. And each week, she got more and more strength, and more and more talented with her wand. It was immensely satisfying for Harry as her teacher and friend to see her improve. Granted, Harry was still progressing at a rate faster than her, given his additional training with Sirius and Dumbledore each week, but she was learning fast, and becoming a force to be reckoned with.

"Today, we'll be practicing the five different stunners and the shields to protect yourself from them," Harry said, pulling out his own wand and taking a few steps away from his charge. "You remember the incantations and wand movements?"

"Yes," Ginny responded confidently. Harry didn't doubt that she practiced on her own time and on their off days.

"Good," Harry said. "Because we will be doing non-verbal casting today, so I'm glad you're ready to move on."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him, but accepted the challenge. For thirty minutes, they lobbed stunners at each other, not so much training in stunning as reacting with the correct shields. It was all about honing defensive instinct. Ginny steadily progressed in her non-verbal casting.

But then, Harry changed things up when he made the focus offensive. They worked on combinations that were most effective in breaking down opponents and their shields. In the beginning, Ginny would have to incant the spells to achieve any real strength. But slowly, she started to get better and better. Harry was always a step ahead of her with his shields, but was pleased to see her progress.

After allowing her to take the offence for some time, Harry decided to strike back, and make it a more realistic stunning duel. Ginny was initially caught off guard by his sudden switch in tactics and hit the ground, unconscious. Harry apologetically revived her and tried to help her to her feet, which she stubbornly refused. "Alright," Harry said when she had straightened and looked back at him defiantly. "I think we can call it a day."

Ginny adamantly shook her head. "Nice try, Potter. I'm not ending on that note. Now raise your wand." Ginny's face was flushed, her chocolate eyes boring into Harry's own. Despite being worn out and sweaty, she was beautiful.

It was not the first time that Ginny's no nonsense attitude had made Harry's heart skip a beat. He felt a heat rise in him as Ginny stared him down, and a smile came to his face. He cleared his throat before saying in as calm a voice as he could manage, "Whenever you're ready, Weasley."

Ginny immediately started throwing out stunners in combinations that they had practiced. Only now, she seemed much more adept at performing them. Harry had to throw up two different shields and jump out of the way of a third stunner to keep himself in the duel. He let out a bark of laughter and turned to face Ginny again, who was taking a few deep breaths to recover from her quick use of magic.

"Trying to get me early on, eh?" Harry taunted. He wanted to let her recover slightly before engaging her in battle without making her think he was going easy on her. Taunting and teasing were his best means of accomplishing this. "I was so distracted by your beauty, you almost had me. Death Eaters with less restraint than me won't stand a chance."

Ginny smirked before firing another couple of low power stunners. She wasn't trying to hit him, just shut him up. "Alright," Harry responded, content that she had caught her breath. "Let's go."

He sent a powerful stunner low on her body followed by a quick one aimed at her chest. Ginny ran forward, hurtling the first stunner while raising a shield to deflect the second. She quickly sent another right back at Harry who spun out of the way.

For nearly two minutes straight they danced around each other, beams of light whizzing by their heads and off of shields. Harry didn't understand how Ginny was still on her feet. He was getting a little winded himself, and knew her magical reserves not to be nearly of his caliber.

Finally, Harry decided he needed to end the battle before she hurt herself. She was so prideful; she would never admit defeat to spare herself injury. He threw a powerful stunner at her, and was surprised to find her do the same in response, instead of shield. The spells met in mid air and, as magical theory postulated, sent the magical power of each spell through to the wand of the opposing caster. Harry felt his own wand leave his hand and fly fifteen feet through the air to his right.

Ginny's wand went much farther in the same direction, and Harry knew the fight would be over. He would reach his wand before she could reach hers, and he would be victorious. He sprinted towards his wand, and saw a bit of movement in his peripheral. He assumed Ginny was running to her own wand, trying to prolong the fight. What he didn't realize until it was too late, is that she had taken an angle and bee lined it right for him.

She collided with him just feet from his wand, and Harry was knocked off his feet in surprise. They both tumbled to the ground, rolling over each other in the process. Harry was still a bit surprised at being launched to the floor, and this gave Ginny a head start on getting to her feet to scramble after Harry's wand. But Harry had quick reflexes and a sharp instinct, and he reached out from on his back and pulled at her leg.

She fell just short of his wand, and Harry pulled her back to him, and straddled her, pinning her arms above her head. Ginny squirmed and bucked for a few seconds, trying to get free, but she was spent. The two teenagers panted heavily until slowly their eyes met. Then the mood changed in an instant.

Harry couldn't look away. He was leaning over her with his hands holding hers above her head, with her hair splayed all around, framing her beautifully flushed face. Their breathing gradually slowed, and Harry felt his face dipping towards her ever so slightly. His eyes left hers for a brief moment, just to glance at her lips, which were opened slightly as she took short and rapid breaths.

His hands loosened their hold on hers so that he could better support his weight on her as he leaned down. He felt her arch her back slightly so that she was leaning towards him, and they were so close. He could feel her hurried breathing on his own lips, and wanted nothing more than to find out what Ginny tasted like.

But then the image of Abby popped into his head. Immediately, he gained control over himself again and leaned back. He was still looking down at Ginny, whose face suddenly housed confusion and relief all at once. Harry leaned back completely and rolled off of Ginny, and stared off absently in another direction. It didn't matter which direction. Just not at her.

There were long, silent, seconds before either of them spoke. Harry figured he needed to address what had almost just happened, since he had been the one to instigate it. But he just didn't quite know what to say.

"Sorry," he whispered after a moment. He still didn't look back at her.

There was more silence, before Ginny spoke softly. "Me too."

What could he say? What was he even feeling at the moment? Sadness that he didn't actually kiss her, or relief that he hadn't cheated on Abby, even if it was just a kiss? Did he need to explain himself to Ginny? He felt more like he needed to explain himself to himself.

"I honestly don't know what…" Harry started and trailed off.

"Me either," Ginny offered, and he finally looked over at her. The confusion hadn't left her face, and she was looking him right in the eyes.

Harry allowed himself to smile slightly. "Well, as long as we both don't know what just happened," he joked slightly.

"We almost kissed, Harry," Ginny said, dryly.

Harry rolled his eyes, amazed that the situation had taken a light turn. "Right. Glad you could clue me in on that."

Ginny took a deep breath. "Chalk it up to fatigue and raging hormones?" Ginny said, more as a question than an explanation.

Harry frowned. "Something like that." He paused for a moment. "Can you blame me for it, when I'm straddling such a gorgeous girl?"

Ginny laughed. "Not if you can't blame me for it, when I'm _being_ straddled by the hottest guy in school."

They laughed together, letting out the tension. But Harry wasn't stupid. Things had just changed. Just as Harry could pinpoint the exact moment when he realized Ginny was attractive, he would forever be able to peg this moment as the time when he realized _he_ was attracted _to_ her. So much so that he had been pulled right in.

But Harry desperately didn't want to deal with it. She was dating Dean. She was Ron's sister. She wasn't Abby, and he had committed to the girl. So he would shelve the feeling for now. Maybe one day he would act on it. Hopefully one day, he would act on it. Harry determined that one day he would act on it.

But today wasn't that day. "You took me by surprise with that tackle, Gin," Harry said, changing the subject. "And you've opened my eyes to something." _Not just that I want to be on top of you again._

Ginny looked back at him expectantly. "What?"

"We need to learn to fight without a wand."

The moment had passed, the feelings swept under the rug. Harry didn't know how Ginny felt about it all, but she acted as though nothing were the matter as they discussed implementing wandless fighting into their morning workouts. Before long, it was time to head back to the Gryffindor tower and prepare for the day. It was funny, considering they had already been awake for over four hours. They left the Room of Requirement, chatting amiably, when they were met with a great surprise.

Professor Severus Snape was walking down the corridor, striding purposefully toward the pair. He sneered at the two of them as he neared and came to a stop with an eyebrow raised. "And what might the two of you be doing here so early this morning?"

"We were going for a morning run," Harry said easily, eying the professor closely. What was he doing here?

"Nothing else?" Snape drawled, seeming to amuse himself.

The timing of his question was a bit ironic, considering what Harry and Ginny had nearly done. But Harry wouldn't let Snape see him sweat. "No," he responded casually. "We prefer your dungeons for that."

Snape's eyes darkened. He decided to change the subject. "The headmaster would like for me to relay a message to you." He eyed Ginny warily.

"If it's not dangerous for her to know, then you can say it here," Harry said, explanatorily.

Snape considered this for a moment. Then he seemed to decide he didn't want to be in Harry's presence any longer than necessary, so he just said it. "Draco Malfoy has been tasked with spying on your mind, Potter. So I sincerely hope your Occlumency has improved since your abysmal performance last year."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You know, it got a lot easier when I got a new teacher. I think I just didn't mesh well with the last one."

"Indeed," Snape said calmly. He turned around with a swish of his robes and began stalking down the hallway.

"Professor?" Harry said. When the man impatiently turned around, Harry bit down his pride and said, "Thank you." After all, the man was risking his life to give him this information. Why Dumbledore didn't tell him himself, Harry didn't know, but he was grateful to the spy nonetheless.

Bereft of any action that would suggest he heard Harry's gratitude, Snape turned back down the hall and left. Harry shook his head amusedly as the man turned the corner and went out of sight.

"The dungeons, huh?" Ginny said, drawing his attention back to her.

He grinned suggestively back at her. "I don't know, Trouble…I think we could turn the dark, echo-filled dungeons into a pretty good time…don't you?"

Ginny took a step back and looked Harry up and down. She bit her bottom lip. "Yeah…I could see that."

-0-0-0-

Ginny was exhausted. She had never gone so hard during training. But she was starting to feel stronger and stronger, and this gave her a little more confidence to push herself harder. Then, of course, Harry's infuriating inability to lose to her also egged her on. For the briefest of moments this morning, she thought she had him. He had been on the ground, she was headed for his wand. And then…

Ginny sighed as she stabbed a piece of sausage on her plate. Dean looked up, concerned. "You alright, Ginny? You look knackered."

Ginny let out a humorless laugh. "Yea, I guess you could say that." Ginny looked up at Dean and shook her head. How close had she been to kissing Harry this morning? How close was _he_ to kissing _her_?

"Up early running with Harry, again?" Dean asked conversationally, as he pushed some eggs around his plate.

"Yup," Ginny said, not anxious to talk about time she spent with Harry. She always felt like she was lying to Dean. After all, she had been up working out with Harry _for five hours__this morning, not the thirty minutes that Dean suspected._

_"__I still can't believe you guys have been running every day for months," Dean commented, shaking his head. "Sounds like torture!"_

_"__You mean you don't appreciate it?" Ginny challenged, a playful tone in her voice._

_"__Oh, no," Dean said hurriedly. "You look great!"_

_Ginny smiled, but she couldn't help but feel disappointed that that was the extent of his compliment. Harry always went overboard when he commented on her physique, but it made her feel special, even if she knew it was in fun. Ginny hated that she was comparing Dean's compliments to Harry's. Dean was a good guy. She liked him a lot._

_"__So what else did you do over the summer, besides running, I mean?" Dean asked, for what Ginny thought was the fiftieth time since returning to Hogwarts. She was starting to worry that Dean wasn't the greatest conversationalist._

_Ginny sighed. "Like I've said, just hung out with siblings, worked out a little, and did homework. It was a pretty uneventful summer aside from being in Diagon Alley when the Dementors switched sides."_

_Dean shivered. "I'm so glad you were safe. That was terrifying."_

_Ginny nodded, and was about to elaborate when the owls started flying in to the Great Hall. As Dean looked up, suddenly anxious, Ginny let her thoughts return to the morning. _

_She and Harry had somehow moved right on from their near kiss. Ginny was somewhat grateful they didn't go through with it. She didn't know how she would have faced Dean if they had. And Ginny was sure Harry was beating himself up about it, too. He sat over by Abby this morning, something he occasionally did. _

_But to each other, they acted as though it hadn't happened. At least after they cleared the air and acknowledged it. Ginny supposed it was a sign of the importance they put on their friendship, that they wouldn't let hormones get in the way._

_Though Ginny knew it was far more than hormones in her case. And the way Harry was looking at her, she suspected it might be a little more for him, too. But she had made a promise to herself that she would __not__get hung up on Harry again. She would not wait for him, or pine after him. So, as difficult as it was, she laughed it off this morning, and her friendship with Harry fell quickly back into place. He was even making suggestive banter not ten minutes later, without any shame._

_Ginny's train of thought was cut short as an owl dropped a letter in front of Dean. He appeared very nervous to open it, and Ginny knew why. She was well aware of his past, even if he didn't talk much about it. It seemed as though Dean's father, who had abandoned the young family when he was a child, had returned over the summer and made waves within the tight knit family._

_They were still having problems, and Ginny didn't know the details. Dean wouldn't let her in, which she thought unhealthy and a little insulting. She thought it should be her role as his girlfriend, to help him through this emotional challenge._

_Sure enough, Dean's face paled as he read through the letter. After he was done reading it, he slumped back in his seat. Ginny noticed his hands were shaking, so she reached out and held one of them in her own small hand._

_"__You want to talk about it?"_

_Dean looked up sharply at her and pulled his hand back. "No!" he snapped. "And I would appreciate you getting off my back about it!"_

_To say that Ginny was shocked by his outburst was an understatement. Normally, she would have felt anger at his shortness, but in this case, she was so surprised she didn't react in her usual manner. "Dean, I…"_

_"__No," Dean continued, his voice now quiet and deadly. "Just drop it."_

_"__I just want to be here for you," Ginny started, still taken aback by his anger. Ginny supposed he was very emotional from whatever the letter said. "I just want you to know that I'm here for you."_

_"__That's great," Dean said, sarcasm in his voice. "And why would I tell my secrets to the girl who clearly won't talk to me about hers? Trust goes both ways, Ginny."_

_Even more surprise filled Ginny at his words. So he suspected that she wasn't being completely forthcoming about her "workouts" in the morning. Or perhaps her family's involvement in the war. Ginny stayed silent as she contemplated this. _

_"__Exactly," Dean said, as he stood up from his chair. "I'll see you later, Ginny."_

_Ginny sat in shock and watched Dean stalk away. After a moment, she caught people looking at her in her peripheral and snapped at a few second years who were glancing at her. Then she looked up, around the Great Hall and saw a pair of eyes on her. Draco Malfoy sat smirking at her, looking __very__smug._

_Ginny quickly averted her eyes, and a scary thought entered her mind. If Draco was tasked with getting into Harry's mind, that meant that he could get into hers—finding out information about Harry's training, about Snape warning him about Draco, and about Ginny's family. Except Ginny didn't know Occlumency like Harry._

_Great__, Ginny thought to herself as she stood slowly from her seat to walk to her morning class. __Now I've got to learn Occlumency from Harry—one __more__thing I can't tell Dean about._

_-0-0-0-_

_"__Macnair," Voldemort said, his voice high and chilling._

_"__Good afternoon, my Lord," Walden Macnair responded with a bow. "How is it that I can serve you?"_

_"__As you know," Voldemort said, with malice in his voice. "Our current attack plan has to fly with the owls for a while as we gather more information on our enemies."_

_"__Yes, my Lord." Macnair was well aware of what had happened the previous night. All of the Death Eaters not involved in the attack were talking about it. Over a dozen of their force gone without a trace. Now, Voldemort was hesitant to attack again, for fear of being ambushed._

_"__But I am not content to sit back and wait for information. We must be proactive during this time."_

_"__Of course, my Lord," Macnair answered, anxious to discover what his role would be. He had heard about their lost forces from the previous night, and was as stumped as everyone else._

_"__You did such an admirable job recruiting the Giants, I believe I shall send you out once more."_

_"__I assure you, my Lord, the Giants are fully on our side. They have already proven so in the raid on—"_

_"__I know that, fool," Voldemort cut him off. "You will be recruiting a new ally. What do you know of the Gargoyles?"_

_Macnair looked up hastily at Voldemort. "There hasn't been a Gargoyle in Britain for hundreds of years!"_

_Voldemort smirked. "Precisely."_

_-0-0-0-_

_"__It's official," Albus said to Harry as the boy leaned back in his chair with a loud sigh. "I cannot enter your mind any more. Congratulations, you've become a master at Occlumency."_

_Harry smiled, proud of his achievement. "Though I must warn you, Harry," Albus continued. "When Draco attacks your mind, he will be much less systematic than I. He will attack recklessly, and that may catch you off guard for a moment."_

_Harry looked back with a confused look. "So why do we practice his type of Legilimency?"_

_Albus allowed himself to smile. "Well, Harry, while you aren't the most proficient Legilimens, you have unbelievable reaction Occlumency. That is, when a Legilimens opens the gate between your mind and his, you can power or sneak your way back in—as you did with Professor Snape last year."_

_Harry nodded, still a little confused. So Albus continued, "Therefore, to protect my own mind from your retaliatory Occlumency, I have been more careful in my attacks."_

_Harry nodding, understanding. "Sir, speaking of my poor Legilimency, Ginny came to me with a concern earlier."_

_"__Yes?"_

_"__Well, she—and Ron and Hermione—know some dangerous information. I thought I might teach them some basic Occlumency, but I'm rubbish with Legilimency, so I don't think I can. With Malfoy wandering around now with some basic mind-reading skills, I figured we'd better take some safety precautions."_

_Albus considered the new information for a moment before responding. "I want you to train them as well as you can with your limited skills. This will help you and them both. But in the meantime, we need memory vaults."_

_"__Memory vaults?" Harry asked, intrigued. He had received one from Sirius for his birthday, but had yet to use it. He hadn't seen a reason to. But it sounded like they would be of value for mind protection._

_Albus nodded. "I will put in an order for three, and they should arrive within a few days. In the interim, tell them to avoid looking at Mr. Malfoy in the eyes."_

_"__Of course," Harry said. "But how do these vaults work?"_

_-0-0-0-_

_Remus Lupin was tired. His emotions were riding very close to the surface. His currently heightened senses made his head pound. The full moon was nearing._

_Now was not the best evening for him to be on watch in the city of Livingston. His mood was aided, however, by the recent success of the Order in capturing eleven Death Eaters, and killing five more, just a few days earlier. Remus was not present, as he was on watch in a different town. And, as team leader, he had to stay behind when Sirius requested backup for the operation. But, he had joined in with them at Grimmauld Place later that night to celebrate._

_Not only was this success cause for a happier Remus, but Tonks was sharing watch duty in Livingston tonight. Despite their history, or perhaps because of it, Remus was always content around Tonks. They sat together in a coffee shop, waiting for the possibility of an attack. She made him happy, and he felt at ease in conversation with her._

_"__Well," Tonks said in response to Remus asking her why they were here tonight. "Snape said that You-Know-Who is nervous to send more Death Eaters to attack, but that still leaves Dementor and Giant attacks as a possibility. We are being stationed at one of more likely Giant attack locations. Just a precaution."_

_Remus nodded. It made sense. He was a backup tonight, and hadn't been briefed before heading to location with Tonks. Remus was often on watch in the evenings, and had only been given these nights off because of the nearing full moon. He had been working almost full time for the Order—a product of not being able to find employment elsewhere because of his condition, and the increasing number of tasks being given to him by Dumbledore, Sirius, and Harry._

_After the Dementor attack outside of Diagon Alley, Harry had approached him about developing some other method of fighting the beasts. Something more fatal. Dumbledore supported this investigation, and that was how Remus and Harry spent the remainder of their training time together over the summer. Harry had noticed some fascinating things during the battle that got them off to a good start in developing a new spell that would not only injure and ward off Dementors, but even kill them._

_Since Harry's return to school, the amount of training time he gave to Remus was significantly lower, but Remus kept working on his own. He spent hours researching Dementors, spell creation, emotion charged magic, and even soul magic. He had made great progress, and believed that with a little more time and some input from various members of the Order, he'd have a working spell._

_Remus shook his head of these thoughts and asked, "So why couldn't Cooper make it tonight?"_

_"__You know he's been paired with Dana Driver, suspected Death Eater?"_

_Remus nodded. He was very proud of the work that the Order—most notably Tonks—was doing to discover the moles in the Ministry. Remus felt confident that they would be able to turn the tables on Voldemort right before he struck. _

_"__Well, they've been moved to the night shift for the next month, so he won't be able to be on watch most evenings. The good news is that Dana is more likely to slip up at night, maybe reveal another mole or tip us off as to what Voldemort's plan is."_

_Remus nodded again. And then, perhaps because the proximity of the full moon was affecting his emotions' hold on him, he asked, "And how are things going between the two of you?"_

_Tonks stiffened noticeably. Before answering, she reached out and sipped her tea tentatively. "Good, I guess."_

_"__So it's official?" Remus asked, both fearing the question and hating himself for needing to know the answer._

_Tonks glared at Remus. "I'm sorry, Remus," she answered hotly. "I don't think you have any right to ask me about this."_

_Remus felt his own anger stir. "Well, just because I turned you down doesn't mean we can't be friends, right?"_

_Tonks face flushed red. "There is a __big__difference between turning me down and being too scared to say yes!"_

_"__I was __not__…__I __am__not sca—"_

_But Remus was unable to finish his thought as a large rumble was felt in the coffee shop. Giants._

_The pair leapt to their feet, their conversation forgotten for the moment. They dashed out of the shop and went down a nearby alley. They immediately pulled three items out of their pockets, broomstick, goggles, and earpiece, enlarging each to their normal sizes. Soon, both Order members were hidden behind disillusionment charms, readying for flight. They checked their goggles to ensure they were working properly, and tested their earpieces so they could communicate if they got split up._

_They took off into the air, scanning the large city for the disturbance. Through Remus' goggles, he saw the blue aura of Tonks hovering beside him, even if he couldn't see her through the disillusionment charm. They separated after a moment to cover more area. He looked down at the ground below, looking for the Giants. _

_It didn't take him long to find one. The Giant was close, and must have been the one causing the tremors they felt in the coffee shop. "I've got one Giant here. Keep looking for more, I can take care of this one."_

_Fighting Giants was a unique experience. Remus had only done it twice before. The first was in the first war, and he and James had been on a watch similar to tonight. Together, they had had enough spell power to take down the Giants one at a time._

_The second time was just a few months earlier, and he had been with Moody to fend off the enormous beings. Because of the sheer numbers they had encountered, there was no way Remus and Moody would have been able to take them down by volume of spells. Instead, they had to be smart and inventive about it. Remus learned in that fight that the best way to fight the Giants was to outsmart them. After all, they were not a clever bunch._

_So Remus conjured an unbreakable rope and fastened it to the back of his broom. If the Giant looked his way, all he would see coming at him was a rope dangling in the middle of the air thanks to the disillusionment. Remus flew low to the ground, trying to keep the rope out of the Giant's line of sight. This proved easy, as the Giant was busy swinging his mighty club at the side of a building. _

_Remus heard screaming inside the building, but knew it would do less good to go to them than to simply take down the Giant quickly. Remus tried to channel his inner Potter and flew with relative grace, encircling the Giant a few times before the Giant felt something odd around his legs. Remus grew cautious as his enemy let out a roar and forgot about the building he was destroying. Instead, he swung his club at the piece of rope being dragged mysteriously and invisibly through the air._

_Remus reacted quickly by releasing the rope before the club hit it. The force would have pulled him to the ground by the back of his broom in an instant. But Remus pulled away. After he was fifteen feet away from the Giant, he removed the disillusionment charm on himself and shouted at the ugly brute. "Oi! Come get me!"_

_The Giant tried to do just that as he stepped forward. But his bound legs soon sent him tumbling to the ground. The Giant had to be nearly twenty five feet tall; the beast fell for what seemed like minutes. Remus glided carefully out of the way, and watched as the entire ground shuddered when the Giant collided with it._

_Remus acted quickly, knowing that eventually, the Giant would figure out to unwind the rope around his legs. Currently, his Giant strength was failing to break the rope, as blood poured from the creatures face where it had met the ground. Remus anticipated that his unbreakable charm would hold for several minutes of this Giant's struggling. He immediately began levitating chunks of wall that the Giant had knocked down from the building and hurtled them at the Giant's head._

_"__Found four Giants, converging on the city library," Remus heard Tonks say in his earpiece. "They've already destroyed several homes—we've got dead muggles in the street."_

_"__Four is too many to engage," Remus shouted. "Call for backup and __wait__for me before you attack!"_

_"__Sorry, Remus," came her reply. "I can't watch them kill any more people."_

_Remus cursed aloud, and launched a few powerful bone-breaking hexes at the Giant, already very woozy from the repeated blows to his head. Remus heard a loud crack, and knew that his spell had ended the Giant's life. Remus suspected that his fear and anger were fueling his power, because he didn't expect to be able to break through the Giant's spell-resistant skin so easily._

_He immediately forgot about the Giant, however, as he rose quickly in the air and scanned the skies for a light blue aura in the distance. Were it not for the nearing full moon, Remus doubted his eyes would have caught the light glow that permeated miles in the distance. He rushed his broom forward, wishing that he had bought the Firebolt instead of a Cleansweep._

_Remus called out for backup through his earpiece, but got distressing news. Apparently, a Death Eater had put up apparation wards to buy the Giants some more time. Therefore, backup was ten minutes out._

_The three minutes it took for Remus to arrive at the library felt like three hours. In his mind's eye, he envisioned Tonks sprawled in a bloody mess on the ground with Giants laughing over her body cruelly. It terrified him. When he arrived, he found a different scene, though not much better than the one his imagination had supplied._

_Tonks was standing on the ground, seemingly favoring her right leg. Her broom lay shattered on the ground nearby, while three Giants moved steadily towards her. Remus noted with grim pride that one Giant lay on the ground, a giant streetlight pole protruding out of its chest._

_Tonks waved her wand wildly, commanding fallen debris and makeshift weapons to fly at the Giants. They certainly were doing damage, and the Giants were bleeding and hurting, but Remus knew Tonks couldn't last. And now, with a bum leg and no broom, escape was out of the question._

_"__I'm here," Remus whispered as he swooped down to Tonk's side. _

_"__Oh thank Merlin," Tonks said, putting up a powerful shield to stop a charging Giant in his tracks._

_"__Buy me ten seconds," Remus spoke again, lifting himself into the air._

_"__Close your eyes," he heard through his earpiece. He obeyed immediately as a blinding light filled the air behind his closed eyelids. Remus opened his eyes again when the light disappeared. The Giants all groaned loudly as they rubbed their eyes furiously._

_The illuminating charm obviously cost Tonks a lot of energy as she slumped to the ground. But she had done what was necessary. Remus raced to the nearest Giant and stuck his wand right into the Giant's surprised mouth. Surpassing the spell-resistant skin, Remus shouted, "__Imperio!__"_

_Instantly, the Giant went calm and stopped its moaning. "Attack your Giant friends," Remus commanded, and the twenty-foot tall beast turned on the spot and faced his old allies._

_He lifted his enormous club and swung it hard at the unsuspecting Giant's face. Remus heard a sickening crunch as the Giant was lifted off his feet with the force of the blow. After another earth-shaking landing, the remaining two Giants faced each other. _

_Had this been humans fighting, the confused human would likely try to talk to his ally, wondering why he had switched sides. But these were not humans; they were giants. And as such, they simply began fighting immediately, swinging weapons, and picking up debris to hurl at the other._

_Remus flew around the fighting pair trying to get some shots off at the Giant who was not imperiused. But he also didn't want to be the new target, so he let the two giants do most of the fighting. After several minutes of fighting, it drew to a close in a way that Remus couldn't have scripted any better._

_Both Giants swung their clubs at the same time with their right hands. Both Giants exposed the left side of their body and head. Both Giants received conscious-losing blows to their heads at the same time, and both Giants fell backwards, ending their battle. What Remus would __not__have scripted, if given the chance, was that Tonks lay about ten feet behind one sparring Giant, and could not crawl fast enough in her weakened state to escape the tumbling tyrant._

_When Remus was fourteen years old, he and James were out late a day before the full moon. James had not yet perfected his stag transformation and wanted to work on it late into the night in the edges of the Forbidden Forrest. Just as James turned his arms and legs into hooves, Remus smelled a Shadow Troll silently approaching. Remus was able to warn James just in time, and they escaped as the Troll came into view._

_Until this moment, that was the only time Remus had ever been grateful that he was a wereworlf. He had saved James' life with the heightened senses he got when the moon was nearing its brightest time._

_Had this exact attack happened just two weeks earlier, Remus doubted his reflexes would have been sharp enough and his arms strong enough to swoop down as the Giant fell slowly to the ground. Remus felt like the Giant was falling in slow motion compared to the speed with which Remus traveled. The moonlit shadow of the Giant grew steadily larger around Remus and Tonks as Remus reached out and grabbed Tonks around the waist, heaving with all of his strength._

_Remus' flying skills were not improved by the moon, however, and found that he could not quickly adjust to the imbalanced weight the broom was now carrying. Remus threw Tonks to safety while losing his balance and tumbling off his broom. Remus hit the ground and rolled away from the Giant the best he could. He felt the Giant's shoulder land right behind him, its entire arm following after it from high in the air._

_Remus came to a stop just as the Giant's hand fell the rest of the way and landed on his leg. Remus cried out in pain when he felt a bone crack, but quickly forgot about the pain as he glanced up, seeing Tonks just inches from his face. He pulled himself forward gingerly and turned her onto her back. Her eyes fluttered open as Remus ran his hand along her cheek. She glanced up at him and a soft smile came to her lips. Despite the partially crusted blood on her cheek and sweat dampening her pink hair, Remus thought she never looked more beautiful._

_Perhaps because Remus Lupin was tired. Or maybe because his emotions were riding very close to the surface. Or maybe that his currently heightened senses made his heart pound with anticipation. The full moon was nearing, after all. But whatever the reason, Remus tossed all of his logic and concerns out the window, and he kissed Nymphadora Tonks._

_-0-0-0-_

_"__I'm proud of you, Harry," Hermione said happily, as she pulled out her Transfiguration text book at Harry's request. "I never would have guessed you would want to study more than me."_

_Harry smirked at his bushy haired friend. They sat at a table in the common room, enjoying a little solitude in the corner. He glanced at Ron, only to see him glaring right back at him. Harry resisted the urge to laugh. How his best mate must hate him for siding with Hermione this year instead of opting to coast through classes with Ron. But Ron's glare disappeared quickly, as if he hadn't wanted Harry to see him upset with him._

_"__Unlike last year," Ginny piped up as she slid into the chair next to Harry, "Harry doesn't have as much time to procrastinate. You don't mind, do you, Ron?" Harry looked over at Ginny and his mind immediately flashed to their workout several days earlier. When he hovered over her, her lips getting closer and closer to his. The image had been entering his thoughts a lot, lately._

_"__No," Ron said hastily, shaking Harry out of his distracting thoughts. "It's been nice having evenings open up now that my homework is always finished." This earned Ron a beaming smile from Hermione, which put a goofy grin on his face. __Maybe he's not upset with my work ethic, after all__, Harry thought to himself. Ginny shot him an amused look at Ron's expression and Harry had to stifle a laugh._

_"__I for one don't know how you're doing it all, Harry." Hermione looked at Harry concernedly. "I mean, you don't get half the amount of sleep that we do, you've got lessons to plan and teach, you play quidditch, you have special training with Sirius and Dumbledore…it's incredible."_

_Harry noticed the smile fall of Ron's face at Hermione's words, but didn't think much of it. "Well, you guys are almost as busy. I couldn't be teaching DART without all that you do. Your wand technique instruction, Hermione, it's like you're a professional. Ron's attack strategies lessons are unbelievable—I've never considered half of the team formations and environment utilization that you're teaching. Ginny, the way you are teaching charms for battle makes me think you're a war veteran."_

_His three best friends blushed at his praise and thanked him for his kind words. "I mean it when I say I wouldn't survive this year without you guys."_

_"__Alright, what do you want, Potter?" Ginny asked sardonically. Harry loved it when she playfully called him by his last name. He loved a lot of things she did. Like the way she felt when he was on top of her. He shook his head of the memory and returned to the conversation at hand._

_Harry laughed. "You know me too well, Gin. I'm afraid I have to ask something of you guys that you may not like."_

_"__What is it, mate?" Ron asked._

_"__Remember how I told you a few days ago that Dumbledore had a possible plan to keep Malfoy from seeing the dangerous information in your minds?" With three nods, Harry continued. "Well, these memory vaults arrived yesterday, and Dumbledore's asked me to give them to you."_

_Harry pulled out four box-shaped items made of marble. They were no bigger than Harry's hand, and he passed one to each of his friends. "These have yet to be opened because once they are opened, you can shut them with a password that only you know. Just whisper the words into the box with your memory and then shut it."_

_"__But pulling the memory from our minds doesn't remove the memory completely, does it?" Hermione said concernedly._

_Harry shook his head. "That's the part you might not like. You are pulling the memory from your subconscious. So you can still consciously __think__of the memory, and it will all be there, but it will no longer work in your subconscious."_

_"__How do you mean?" Ron asked, confused. "Like dreams?"_

_"__That's one example," Harry said. "You won't have dreams about your memory anymore because it won't be there to access. But it also changes the way we think and act sometimes because our subconscious is always working and using its experience to make connections and decisions for us."_

_Ginny looked thoughtful. "So if I took out all memories of Transfiguration class, and then tried to take a test…"_

_"__It would be incredibly difficult," Harry concluded for her. "You would have to think through every little aspect of the test because your memory couldn't be making the simple connections behind the scenes."_

_"__And Legilimency draws from the subconscious?" Hermione asked._

_"__For the most part," Harry said. "If you think about the prophecy directly when he's in your mind, then he'll see it. So all you have to do is actively think about something else, and he won't be able to sift through your memories for the prophecy."_

_They sat in silence for a moment. Hermione broke the silence. "Well, it's a little sad to think I won't have this aspect of who I am, but I understand the need to protect your secret."_

_"__At least until we get better at Occlumency," Ron added._

_"__And until I get better at Legilimency to help you," Harry acknowledged sadly. Harry noticed Ginny looked very pensive. She was biting her bottom lip, which made Harry jealous. Why did she get to bite her lip and he couldn't? "Gin? You okay?" Harry asked, trying to control his thoughts. He noticed Hermione looking at him in a very calculating manner, and was grateful __she__didn't know legilimency, giving her access to his often inappropriate thoughts about Ginny._

_Ginny glanced up at Harry's question, a little startled. "Yeah, great…how much can we store, and how do we remove memories?"_

_Harry went on to tell his friends the about the boxes' large memory capacity and the process of removing memories, and they soon continued with their homework. _

_Later that night, unbeknownst to the other, both Harry and Ginny removed the same memory. Neither wanted to keep dreaming about the near kiss that they had had. And it had been distracting them an awful lot…_

_-0-0-0-_

_"__So, Dana Driver is occasionally meeting with Marion Etman?" Tonks asked, making a note._

_"__Yeah," Cooper said. "But they never talk about Voldemort's plans or anything. I don't think he's a Death Eater."_

_"__Hmm," Tonks said. She had trouble meeting Coop's eyes. Ever since that mind-blowing kiss she had shared with Remus a week earlier. After he had pulled away, Tonks had used her remaining strength to pull him right back in. Remus didn't seem to mind, and it wasn't until the backup arrived several minutes later that they composed themselves and Tonks sought medical attention._

_Of course, after the full moon had passed, and Remus lost his werewolf tendencies, he had apologized to her and said it was an accident. That it wouldn't happen again. But the damage was done. She couldn't deny that she was in love with him, and nothing would change that. "Well, I appreciate it, Coop. We'll keep an eye on him and see what we can find."_

_Tonks turned to leave, but her arm was grabbed by Cooper. "Tonks, wait." She turned around slowly, nervous to see his hurt expression. "Look, I know we've never explicitly said we were going out…but I kind of thought after that night that it was implied." He offered a small smile before continuing. "What's going on? I've hardly seen you this week."_

_Tonk's sighed. She couldn't run anymore. "I'm sorry, Coop. I…can't do this anymore."_

_Cooper's eyes filled with hurt and confusion. "What? I thought things were going great!"_

_"__They were, Coop. It's just…there's someone else who I can't get off my mind. Or my heart. This isn't fair to you."_

_Cooper's eyes softened. "I see." There was a pregnant pause before he said. "Look, I get that, okay? But promise me that if it doesn't work out that you'll give us real chance, okay? I really like you Tonks."_

_She smiled up at Cooper; his eyes were full of care. "I'm so sorry, Cooper. I really like you, too…it's just—"_

_"__I know," Cooper responded. "I'll see you around, okay?" He leaned down and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. Why did the heart want what it wanted? Cooper was a great man. He turned and walked down the deserted hallway, to apparate back to the Ministry. Tonks stayed put for another half hour, cursing the name of Remus Lupin._

_-0-0-0-_

_Sirius sat down with a sigh in Dumbledore's office. It had been a tiring couple of weeks. His victory over the Death Eaters was tremendous, and he wouldn't take it back—but it was exhausting dealing with the fallout. He had to help build a secret prison. They had to bury a few Death Eaters that had been killed. He had to orchestrate a new watch schedule now that they had made a move against Voldemort and plans were being altered. He had to try to talk Tonks through a tough time that Remus was putting her through. He had to talk Remus through a tough time he put himself in, the git. He had to continue training Harry. And last but not least, he had to spend as much time with Sarah as possible._

_Things were going great on that front. The two hadn't been as happy as they were now since before James and Lily were killed. Before he had cheated on her and ruined his life. But he was different now—he'd been given another chance and was bent on using it to the fullest._

_But that only made life all the more exhausting._

_"__You look terrible," Dumbledore said, amusement in his voice._

_"__Harry isn't exactly an easy man to train. He's better than me now. I still have some skills and knowledge up on the kid, but he is something else…"_

_Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Yes, he is. And he's got you to thank for that."_

_Sirius smiled grimly. "I'm glad I could help a little, but I can promise you I had little to do with the man he is becoming."_

_"__Perhaps," Dumbledore conceded. "And how is he doing in training, then?"_

_"__Fantastic. He has more power than me, he's faster than me, he's using spell combinations I can only dream of."_

_"__And my magically created Death Eater doppelganger?"_

_Sirius took out his wand and removed a memory while pointing it at his temple. While the silvery wisp emerged, Sirius commented, "Beat you three more times this week. He's smart—using strategies I've never seen or imagined. Brilliant in a pinch."_

_"__What about in straight up dueling?" Dumbledore asked, excitedly collecting the memory from Sirius._

_"__Your Death Eater still beats him—but it's pretty amazing to watch. Harry has to fight you like that at least once per training session. He's determined to beat you in a one-on-one match."_

_"__Well," Dumbledore said, with an odd look in his eyes. "It won't be long until he takes my place then."_

_Sirius tilted his head in confusion. "You mean…as dueling champ or something?"_

_"__Or something," Dumbledore responded with a smile._

_-0-0-0-_

_Days turned to weeks, and weeks soon sent October into the past. School was going well, with lessons in Transfiguration and Charms really helping him become a smarter duelist. With each Potions class, Harry became more and more confident in his abilities. He found that Snape had really been the only thing holding him back in the past, and as soon as he was able to stop letting Snape get to him, he started making his potions perfectly. He had become so confident, that he would bottle many of the potions he prepared to use later in useful situations. As long as he didn't let Snape know he was taking some potion, it was fine. After all, Snape simply disposed of the leftover potions anyway, convinced that they were pure garbage._

_Beyond this, Harry continued his rigorous schedule, filled with classes, training, working out, quidditch, teaching, and carefully watching Draco Malfoy. It was a dangerous game, of course, because Harry couldn't tip Malfoy off that he was on to him, but Harry also didn't want to leave himself vulnerable. _

_It was his vulnerability that had also led him to putting his memory of nearly kissing Ginny into his memory vault. It wasn't that he was afraid of Malfoy seeing it. It was that he kept having dreams—far too pleasant dreams—that always began with that moment. But in the dream, he wouldn't stop himself in time. The dreams then varied, some getting much more intense than others. Sometimes the dream Room of Requirement would turn into a fancy hotel room littered with rose pedal or a vacant tropical beach where Harry and Ginny would make a kiss seem like an innocent glance. Other times, they would simply kiss and smile at each other, perhaps admitting feelings._

_And Harry needed those dreams to stop._

_But beyond the dreams, since removing the memory, he found that he was more attentive towards Abby, and his relationship with her was progressing nicely. Well, perhaps not progressing, but he was enjoying the state at which it remained. It was no longer being hindered by random thoughts of Ginny entering his mind. _

_For her part, Ginny seemed entirely unfazed by the experience, so Harry was glad that he had removed the memory. It wouldn't do well to have him drooling over her while she was happily oblivious to his attraction. He and Ginny were able to continue training every other day without further incident, and Harry found he was able to control his thoughts around her much better now. While he still occasionally admired her beauty, he was not entirely distracted by it. Harry suspected that removing the memory had taken some of his subconscious thoughts about Ginny with it, too._

_And it was good timing, because they had added physical combat to their workout routine. Using a few simple spells, they were able to limit the amount of damage a kick or punch would do to each other, allowing them to go all out in practice. That meant that for nearly an hour every other morning, Harry and Ginny were in close contact. While they were trying to learn mixed martial arts, they spent quite a bit of time rolling on the ground and wrestling each other into submission. These sometimes intimate positions they found themselves in would have been far too much for Harry in the past. But without his memory and subconscious acting without his permission, he was able to control himself._

_They improved drastically over the month since the kiss incident. Harry was much stronger than Ginny, and as such, she rarely stood a chance as they trained in physical combat. But that never stopped her, or got her down. Instead, she had learned a few tricks that used his size advantage against him. They read and implemented techniques, the Room of Requirement provided them with a pensieve and training memories of mixed martial arts fighters, and one thing Harry grew certain of was that Ginny would be able to take on almost any man that she was forced to fight._

_Harry just hoped that person would be Malfoy._

_During the weeks that wore on, Ginny and Hermione both told Harry they thought Malfoy had tried to enter their mind. However, between his attempt at being secretive, and their own slowly improving Occlumency ability, he didn't get very far into their minds before retreating. _

_"__That bastard!" Ron had roared when Hermione had shared the information emotionally. She felt very exposed, even if he didn't see anything. It was a powerful realization for her to see what horrible things could be done by even insignificant wizards. Harry had to agree with Ron's assessment of Malfoy._

_Ginny had been much more calm about it, and it only urged her to work harder on protecting her mind._

_But finally, after nearly a month of waiting and taking precautions, Malfoy struck. In the middle of Harry's DART class, as he was instructing group seven on different ways to improve reflexes and reaction times, he felt the attack on his mind._

_Harry immediately stopped speaking and retreated into his mind as he had been trained. He removed everything from his thoughts but the attack and building defenses up around it. Dumbledore was right. The attack was vicious and erratic. Because of this, Harry felt like he was bouncing all around in his mind to put up adequate defenses. He felt some unwanted images flash briefly in his mind. He knew that without his occlumency training, Malfoy would've gotten a lot of information. _

_As it was, Harry kept the flashing images too brief to recognize, much less interpret and learn from. The spastic mind attack left Malfoy weak once Harry was able to track him down, and Harry was able to quickly trap Malfoy in his mind behind thick mental barriers. Once he was sure Malfoy was secure, he took the path Malfoy had opened to reach him and went right into Malfoy's unsuspecting mind._

_Lucius Malfoy sat in front of Draco and Narcissa, his eyes moist with tears. He hugged his son. The scene flashed, and Harry knew from Malfoy's mind that the new scene was taking place just a year earlier. Contrasting with the love on Lucius' face from the scene prior was complete fury, as he lashed out and struck his heir across the face. A word, '__prodo'__came to Harry's mind before he felt Malfoy pushing at him to get out._

_He left Malfoy's mind, returning to his own. Malfoy, still trapped between minds, would need a moment to emerge and collect himself. With that thought, Harry left his mind, raised his wand, and fired the first spell he thought of._

_Group seven, oblivious to the war that just went on in their minds, gasped as Malfoy was thrown back, his face bloody and soon to be bruised. His nose was clearly broken, and he had a large gash on his lower lip. He landed with a thud on the ground._

_"__I'd like all of you to thank Malfoy, here," Harry said calmly as he strode forward towards the body that was only now reacting to what just happened. Malfoy leaned up from his back onto his forearms as he looked nervously at Harry, a light whimper leaving his lips satisfyingly. He lifted one hand to his face to check if he was bleeding. He was. "He offered before class to demonstrate the importance of quickening our reflexes. After all, someone can attack without notice at any time, isn't that right?"_

_Harry got down in Malfoy's face and raised his eyebrows. "Ye—yes," Malfoy stuttered._

_Whispering so that only Malfoy could hear him, Harry dangerously said, "If you __ever__attack me or my friends' minds again, a broken face will be the least of your worries. Then after I'm done with you, I'll turn you over to Dumbledore, and you heard what he said about bringing the war to Hogwarts."_

_Malfoy's eyes held pure fear as he looked at Harry. Apparently, he had not been expecting Harry to so easily throw off his attack. And he clearly had not wanted Harry to see his memories. He nodded._

_Harry pulled him to his feet roughly before turning back to the rest of the group. "Thank him before he runs off to the Hospital Wing, group seven." Malfoy turned and walked hastily out of the Great Hall as group seven gave halfhearted and confused thanks to him._

_Harry continued teaching as if nothing had happened. The truth is that a lot had happened. He had just hit Malfoy with a curse that wouldn't heal easily. He'd likely have bruises on his face for two weeks, and a small scar on his lip forever. His nose would always be slightly bent from the break._

_But not just that had happened. Malfoy had some fascinating memories at the forefront of his mind. That meant that those memories were a great presence in his subconscious, memories that affected who Draco was and what decisions he made. Harry couldn't make much of the short glimpse he had gotten, but did think that one thing of value came from all of this._

_A password._

_Prodo_

_-0-0-0-_

**_A/N: And there you have it—Harry's occlumency training with Dumbledore has paid off. But is it done cashing in? Also, what do you think of Harry and Ginny storing memories away? Try to think from their current perspective, not where you _****_want _****_them to be. Whenever I write my characters doing something dumb (like Remus going back on his kiss with Tonks, or Harry and Ginny doing what they did), I ask myself this: Clearly it's a foolish move, but does it make sense to them? _**

_**I'm curious to know what you think.**_


End file.
